


Not All Those Who Wander

by mumblingmaria



Category: Star Wars: Rebels
Genre: Gen, Post Series, Unknown Region Adventures
Language: English
Status: In-Progress
Published: 2019-08-13
Updated: 2020-01-31
Packaged: 2020-08-20 20:00:18
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 4
Words: 28,900
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/20233537
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/mumblingmaria/pseuds/mumblingmaria
Summary: Lost in unfamiliar worlds, months apart from everything they've ever know, Ezra and Thrawn continue to navigate the Unknown Regions with what little support they have left. Unsure of where their path will lead them, they continue forwards. But a crash landing on a new world brings out new threats to the whole galaxy, threats they may not be able to understand or stop alone.And none of this is easy with the past clinging to them.





	1. Lost

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> _Not all those who wander are lost._

Beating down on the ground, the sun’s yellow rays colour the world around the travellers in a sickly light. There are no clouds in the sky, and there haven’t been the days that they’ve spent on this world, so far. Rain must make its way through these lands frequently enough, there’s too much green and life in the area for it to be any other way (even if it seems that green is starting to fade). The air is thick, moisture hanging in it to a suffocating degree during the midday sun. They just aren’t privy to any of those clouds, no break from the heat bearing down on them incessantly. While still only the morning, their group knows just how much worse the heat will get within just a few hours. 

There’s a forest following their path, to their distant right, and tempting them out of the sun. They haven’t ventured to it yet, not trusting the harder to navigate terrain. For now, they stick to the fields where they can at least see if something wants to attack them.

However, in this moment, native animals and potential hostile locals aren’t the cause for their frustrations.

Staring out at the grass fields surrounding them, Thrawn waits for the next accusation to be thrown at him. 

“You don’t get to just decide what our plan of action is,” Bridger states, crossing his arms. He’s tense, which is not a revelation or new insight. He’s been tense since they landed on this planet. He was tense before they even released they were going to be forced to land on the planet. “You don’t get to decide for me, for any of us, how we proceed.”

“You’ve misunderstood me, Bridger, I am not trying to decide anything for us. I am merely stating the only good course of action here,” Thrawn replies. He’s sitting down, next two the only members of his crew that remain from those who decided to join him on this journey through the Unknown Regions. Karyn Faro and Ziven Pic, his commander from the now lost _Chimaera_, and a loyal yet easily distracted stormtrooper (or, rather, ex-stormtrooper). That’s all that has been left to him. Them, and his one time Jedi prisoner. “We need to move forwards. We cannot linger here where we don’t know the terrain. It is die here, starving, or potential find civilization and survive.”

Bridger’s mouth tightens and he turns away. He knows that it’s the only option, they all know that. None of them want to die out here. So, why is he arguing?

Thrawn keeps his eyes on Bridger as the boy—the young man—begins to pace. After over seven months of travelling the Unknown Regions together, there are still many things about him that don’t quite make sense. There’s still a part of him that Thrawn just cannot seem to place yet, organized with everything else he has learned since being charged to stop his band of rebels. While he believes that he will come to fully understand Ezra Bridger, it’s fascinating to him that after two years he still has questions. 

“So, what do you suggest? We split up to cover more ground? We go back to our ship and hope scavengers haven’t taken apart and aren’t waiting for us to come back to attack us? We don’t have any options anymore, Thrawn!” Bridger says, turning back to him. 

“Have you truly lost hope for our survival so quickly?” Perhaps not the wisest of buttons to start pushing, but Thrawn needs to push Bridger out of this mood. There’s something going on that he won’t reveal because they still don’t trust each other. He needs to push him in order for them to all move forward. He can only lead them so far on this path. 

He gets the reaction he anticipated; glares and a deep breath to calm the anger trying to rise up in him. Bridger maybe be unreadable at times, but he is still very much a human, and humans are something Thrawn spent a long time studying. 

Looking quickly between the three of them sitting, Bridger turns and starts to walk away. He gestures over to the worn and brightly painted over stormtrooper helmet, which promptly jumps up into his hand. “I’m going to go find us something to eat,” he calls over his shoulder, putting the helmet on.

Thrawn looks to his left at Ziven Pic, and nods to him. “Go with Bridger, we can’t afford to lose our easily frustrated Jedi.”

“Yessir,” Pic says, scrambling to his fight. 

Ziven Pic adjusted well to the life of a deserter, which Thrawn supposes they are. One of the first accept the call to join him when said offer to venture further into the Unknown Regions was given. The life suits him, which raises questions on how well executed the program to train the stormtroopers was if they can desert so easily. A question that doesn’t concern them anymore, though perhaps will be entertaining to ponder at night. Pic also shows interest in Bridger, making him the perfect choice to be his middleman when dealing with the Jedi. Perhaps longing for comradery again, Pic continues to try and take Bridger under his wing. Sometimes it works, most likely today will not be one of those days. Not for what will be a good effort from Pic. 

“Uh... and, sir, maybe you shouldn’t wind him up like that, it doesn’t really achieve anything.” Pic is standing a few feet away from the two left sitting, his nerves etched all over his face and in his stance. “You know, just to keep the peace or whatever.”

“I will keep that in mind, Pic. Now, go after him.”

He nods and then runs to catch up with Bridger. 

In the grass next to him, Faro leans back. “Half of the times you send those boys off together, Bridger comes back to explain how Pic almost got himself killed again.”

Thrawn smiles faintly. “That is less often now.”

She hums in response, turning her gaze in the direction of the forest. He follows her gaze, understanding the draw to the trees. The temptation of shade and more potential food is growing every day. They’re an intelligent group, and generally can function well in the day to day struggle to navigate this portion of the galaxy. They all know that to wander into those woods, especially with Bridger being difficult, would most likely mean death. This is why they need their group to work again, work together. 

“Pic isn’t completely wrong,” Faro says after a few minutes pass. 

“He isn’t,” he answers. He lets his voice rise at the end, just to allow Faro to continue her train of thought. He wants to let her follow these paths, let her mind grow to its full potential. Perhaps she will not ever replace the vacancy of Eli Vanto—who is exactly where he needs to be—but to even come close to that is an asset he needs.

“The more you push Bridger like this, the chances of him deciding to part ways increases. And then what happens to us?”

“I see.” Thrawn looks over to her. She’s carrying the frown she’ll wear when she’s undermining him but worries she is not doing so in the way he wants. She’ll overcome that, eventually. “Perhaps you’re right, but if he is not pushed in the right direction when he begins to pull away, then we will be sure to lose his guidance. I am aware of the risk of my actions, Faro. I will not put our chance of survival in jeopardy with pointless or frivolous actions.”

Faro’s lips tighten and she turns her gaze in the direction Bridger and Pic. They aren’t visible anymore, these fields have a decent amount of hills that eventually cover up where one has been (or is going). Thrawn watches that direction as well.

“Sir, I still don’t understand why we’re travelling with him.”

✣✣✣

A stalemate is the only way to describe the scene.

They’re out of hyperspace now, floating in space and relying entirely on a boy’s mystic arts to keep them alive. Thrawn tries to move, only an inch to see if he can now that they have left Lothal’s skies, but immediately the tendrils around him tighten. No, there will be no escaping from this physically. Everyone on the bridge seems to be holding their breath, there is little sound filling the space. No one dares distract or threaten the boy Jedi in fear that it’ll mean their immediate death. They are no doubt assuming that if they even move in the slightest towards Thrawn, Bridger will bring about their destruction. They just don’t understand how it will come. 

It’s a stalemate.

Twisting his head to the side, as much as he can, he looks out through the destroyed viewports and over as best he can the creature holding him in place. He can see at least one of the other Star Destroyers that was dragged through space to be abandoned on the edge of the galaxy. Which is good for whenever he gets the chance to hail them to be reinforcement. The creatures that pulled them all here seem to be departing. All but the colossal one on the _Chimaera_. Until this creature leaves, he cannot call for aid. The creature will not depart until Bridger decides it’s safe to let it. And from the look of bleak determination, that decision is far off.

So, as said before, it is a stalemate.

It is maybe not the best word to use, he has the upper hand, even if it would cost him his life. He could order his crew to lockdown down the bridge, cutting him free from the monstrous animal holding him. He would most likely not survive that, he knows full well that he would be crushed to death by the time anyone managed it, but it would free his men to attack the Jedi and at least save themselves. There are other commanders and captains on the other ships, they will have to be competent enough to lead if he dies here. But, then what would the reason for still being alive after all of this only to die now? Why not have him disposed of over Lothal if it just meant they would both die out here?

Perhaps it isn’t the stalemate they both believe it to be. 

Bridger’s arms are still outstretched, one keep the bridge’s hatchway closed and stopping any, albeit useless to the situation, reinforcements. The other is to keep him in place, trapped in the creature’s hold. Thrawn had already taken note that they’re all still alive despite the lack of glass, meaning Bridger is somehow keeping them from suffocation and being dragged out into the vacuum of space. He must be near exhaustion. Time is evaporating quickly until it does not matter if one of them makes a move, Bridger’s body will make the decision soon enough for the both of them.

Actions need to be taken. Now.

“It seems we are at a stalemate, Jedi,” Thrawn says. He watches the boy wince ever so slightly as he looks up at his captive. “If you do not release me soon, my men will certainly decide this has gone on far too long and shoot you. That, however, would lead to all of us dying. And then there is the issue of you not being able to continue this. How long do you expect to be able to hold this position?”

“Don’t worry about me, Thrawn, I can keep this up as long as I need to,” Bridger replies. He right arm wavers. The door doesn’t open. 

“Yes, but there is also the matter of the other Star Destroyers that will be doing what they can to free us from your creature. While that would ensure none of us would survive, it would also,” Thrawn says, holding his gaze intently, “ensure that this being would die as well.”

Bridger swallows but nothing else changes. It’s curious how difficult this boy is to read. Before handing him over to the Emperor, Thrawn had been sure that he was nothing to worry about; just a confused and scared child clinging to the ancient and outdated practices of a dead master, easy to manipulate. He had been proven wrong the moment he had arrived on the bridge. He’s being proved wrong, again. Idle and empty threats won’t work on him. Not after having sacrificed everything. 

Everything but his life.

“What is your plan, then, Bridger? What’s next?”

He laughs, his left arm dropping just enough that a centimeter of space within the tendrils is given. “I don’t know. I didn’t plan this far ahead. I thought… I thought we would have died.”

It’s not a stalemate. It’s two people who both need to realize and accept that they are going to have to depend on the other to survive. Thrawn knows he can get there; in fact, he already is. He knows what he needs to do now, in this exact moment. He cannot see the future, but that is not what he will offer up in the pursuit of their survival. That will fall to the other. But, can Ezra Bridger do what needs to be done?

“You’re going to fail if you keep this up. I am confident you can feel your body getting ready to betray you. Stand down and I will make sure your creature here isn’t harmed and that you are not harmed. You have my word.”

The bridge is quiet. It has been so the entire time. There’s a _bing_ing noise, only now noticeable, filling the space; most likely one of the other ships trying to hail them. The occasional sound of debris falling to the floor joins in, nothing surprising about that as the boy was overly reckless and destructive in his taking of the bridge.The officers or stormtroopers continue to not make a sound; all of them are still worried that they will be the reason the Jedi menace will snap any kill them all (none of them know that that was never going to be the case, all having bought into their Empire’s propaganda). 

He is also quiet. Thrawn watches him, sees the gears turning in his head, trying to figure out if this is some sort of trick. He has no reason to be trusting, and Thrawn wouldn’t blame him if he decides not to listen and just take them all out. He wouldn’t blame him, but he would be very surprised. Bridger revealed that there is so much more to him than the initial assessment; more layers, more twists, more depth. He is not just a scared boy, lost without his teacher. He is not just fighting a pointless fight. He is not just a child clinging to a past. Bridger is always looking to the future, it seems. 

“Your word?”

“Yes.”

The tentacles loosen before his left arm gingerly starts to lower. 

Wasting no time, Thrawn calls out, “What is the status of our power levels?”

“They’re fine, Admiral. The hyperdrive is completely shot, though it has received no physical damage. Shields are operational. Weapons seem to be down.” a voice calls back. He thinks it may have been Hammerly.

The grip around him is almost nonexistent now, though he dares not move yet. He will wait until the creature has completely left, he doesn’t want Bridger to change his mind. 

“Lower the blast shields on the bridge once this creature is completely outside. No one make any moves against the Jedi. Continue to run all tests on the _Chimaera_ to ensure we remain operational. Answer the hail from the other ships, assure them that we are fine and tell them I will contact them when I have the opportunity to,” Thrawn instructs. The tendrils have almost completely departed, allowing him to step forward. “Now, Bridger, it is time to stand down.”

“Seems like it, huh?” he says, dropping his right arm. The hatchway behind him swooshes open and a dozen stormtroopers rush in, all aiming their blasters at the Jedi intruder. Thrawn raises a hand. Their weapons don’t lower, but the intent immediately shifts from kill to caution. “Your word.” It’s not a question this time, merely a reminder.

Thrawn takes another step forward, adjusting the collar of his uniform. “As I already said, you will not be harmed.” His words are followed by the dropping of the blast shields, sealing them in. Cutting them off from any outsider watching, not that there could be one in deep space. The imagery of it is not lost on him, nonetheless. 

“Good,” Bridger mutters. He then falls to the floor.

Sighing, Thrawn gestures to two of the stormtroopers. They rush forwards, pulling the boy back onto his feet, as best they can with an unconscious body. “Cuff him and then take him to the medbay. He must be cuffed to the bed. I want four guards on the door, two inside and two outside. Do not let anyone into the room that is not me.”

“We’re keeping him alive, sir?” a voice next to him asks. He turns to look at Commodore Faro, unscathed from the brief scrimish on the bridge. Good, he would have loathed anything more happening to one of his closest allies, especially with how things are going to start shifting out of his favour soon. Especially since it is his fault entirely she is here and not at her new posting with the Eleventh Fleet like he had promised her. He looks her over and sees a numerous amount of emotions across her face. Confliction being there the most. “Is that wise? He’s never going to work for us.”

“No,” Thrawn answers, turning back to the stormtroopers now carrying the unconscious and bound Jedi off the bridge, “he won’t ever work for us. But, if this continues in the manner it appears to be heading in, I believe that he will work with me. So, we will not kill him, not unless we must. His death would prove problematic to our survival. None of us would be able to return to our homes.”

Faro nods and the returns to her station, casting a final look at him as moves across the bridge. Thrawn looks to the closed off viewports, wishing he had taken in the view of their surroundings before shutting themselves in.

✣✣✣

A few hours passed, maybe only two, and Faro and Thrawn are still just sitting and waiting for the other two to return. Faro stretches out her arms over her head and then leans back on them. She hates it when Bridger gets into these moods and wanders off. It always holds them up. It’s always just proves that he is still a child, acting like one throwing a tantrum for not getting his way. She doesn’t know much about the Jedi other than that they’re very dangerous to the Empire yet somehow all dead. Or mostly dead (one boy against an Empire can’t do very much, she doesn’t know why the Emperor wanted him captured). She doesn’t care to know much about them. Having to deal with one daily was more than enough.

“There are clouds coming this way,” Thrawn says. He’s standing off a few feet, probably having grown bored of sitting around. Faro turns her head in his direction and sees that there are clouds coming. They are far off, though, and there’s no chance of them reaching here before noon when the sun will be at its worst. But maybe tomorrow they’ll be lucky. 

“It’s about time, I’m tired of being baked here every day,” she says, sighing. “Hopefully tomorrow we’ll get a break.” 

“Tell me what you think of the planet, Faro.”

She blinks and looks away. One of his tests. Despite the fact that they’ve left the Empire, he still tests her. Still challenges her. Still tries to push her mind into new ways of thinking and observing. She isn’t sure if this is annoying. Actually, she is sure of that, she just isn’t sure how annoyed by it she is. It doesn’t help that she _shouldn’t_ be here.

“Do you want my honest opinion or just my observations?”

“Both.” 

Rolling her head to the side and letting her neck crack in a satisfactory way, she thinks of the correct way to answer this. There’s always a correct answer to Thrawn’s questions, even when he wants just your opinion. “It’s hot, probably unseasonably hot. With how green it is, there should be more clouds, not necessarily carrying rain all the time. Though, the grass is starting to burn. I can’t say I care for this kind of weather. Also, not a strong population but I think there most likely are people, of whatever kind, living here. There are paths in the field, not just from animals.” Then something clicks in her head. “We haven’t seen any animals, yet.”

Faro looks to Thrawn, who nods. “No, we have not,” he confirms.

“This is a strange place.”

“It is.”

She has a question to ask, but holds it in. Every time she asks it, Thrawn is dismissive. He has yet to give her a satisfactory answer. But now, more than ever, she wants to ask her question. She doesn’t expect him to give her a new answer, though she supposes that’s fair since her question never changes. Picking up a stone, she starts to toss it up in the air and then catches it. 

“Ask your question.”

“It’s the same as always, there’s no point in asking, again, sir,” she replies. She tosses the stone too far into the air and it lands a few feet away. Looking around her again, Faro finds a new stone and starts to toss it. For whatever reason, Pic and she still refer to Thrawn as sir. They’ve at least stopped referring to his old rank. Then again, Pic will still address her in the same way. Their military careers are still etched into their very beings. They will all have to work on that more if they want to continue passing as everyday travelers wherever they end up. 

Thrawn moves back to where she’s sitting and sits down in the space in front of her. “Ask it, anyway.”

Sighing, she catches the stone and looks him over. “Sir, why are we still following Bridger? I thought we were joined with him to stop some sort of threat. So far, we’ve wandered the galaxy aimlessly for over seven months. There’s still no sign of this threat, or any sort of threat. For all we know, he’s been leading us to our deaths, just slower than we could have anticipated. He may very well _be_ the threat and he’s just having his fun with us,” she says. “We should part ways before he decides we aren’t useful and does us in. You must know of what the Jedi were like.”

He takes a moment before he responds. She tries to study his movements, how his face might twitch as he thinks, but she just doesn’t hold anything to how Thrawn can analyze a situation or person. All she knows is that this time he is thinking through his answer to her verses just the usual response of having to trust the Jedi child. Which is interesting. Maybe he really did have a reason from pushing the boy’s buttons today rather than the usual they can’t see eye-to-eye at all. 

“It is difficult, what we’re doing. We are trusting in an enemy that we have been told is a fanatic and killer from a myth. And we are learning that that was never true. Whether or not we agree with him, Bridger is not the threat we were told he should be. Not anymore. Perhaps never,” he says. He keeps his eyes on her as he speaks, keeps his focus on her. Sometimes when he speaks to someone, he’s bored. He looks away and expects you to do the work. Not now. He leads her through his words. His proper answer. “I do not believe Bridger is leading us to our demise. He will reveal to us what his plans are once he knows what they are. If that’s because his Force hasn’t shown him the way yet, I do not know. But we will know soon what is going on, I assure you.

“We will continue to trust Bridger, we will continue to work with him.”

Faro nods and leans back on her hands. A defeated breath passes her lips as she stares out at the field. His words aren’t comforting, one could never say that about Thrawn. Enlightening, inspiring, informative, sure, but Thrawn is not a man who takes the time to comfort those who are subordinates. Which is somehow a comfort within itself; you always know what you’re getting from Thrawn. But it’s not the type of comfort she needs now, lost in the galaxy with no way of knowing how home is doing. “I miss the Empire,” she says, keeping her eyes on the field. “I miss knowing my place in the galaxy, that I was fighting for something that mattered. Something I _knew_ mattered. I miss knowing what my opportunities were. Now… I’m struggling to see the point of it all. I worry about the state of the Empire, how it’s faring against the rebels.”

“You will get home. We all will.” Thrawn states. She looks back to him, his red eyes piercing into her. This is more than a promise. It’s clear that in his mind, this is a fact. It sends a shiver through her; she can forget how intense he can be. “The Empire may not be how we left it, but you will return to you home. We are all going to return home.”

Faro nods.

✣✣✣

The sun continues to beat down on them as they wait. It is past the midday point, now, but just as unbearable as if it were still there. Thrawn is beginning to share some of the frustration that Faro has been feeling all morning, but only those from weather. He knows the majority of her frustration is directed at him. The pair looking for food are taking longer than they would usually, even when they’d get into trouble. This could mean two things, neither of them good: food is so scarce that they are struggling to find a meal’s worth of it which means that they will be in severe trouble soon with nothing to eat or it could mean they were captured by locals and not even Bridger could get them out. There’s a miniscule but nagging voice in his head saying that perhaps Bridger finally snapped and disposed of Pic and has left them here to die. He ignores that voice for it is not his, it belongs to Faro. It is her worries.

Most likely, it is one of the two options he thought of. 

“Still no sign of them,” Faro calls over to him. She’s standing off in the direction the others left in, trying to figure out if they’ve died or not. It’s foolish, but he cannot fault her for trying to occupy herself. 

“They will return,” he replies. He takes off his jacket, folding it to drape over his arm. It’s too hot now to keep wearing it. He walks over to stand with her, surveilling the same scene. “Be patient, Faro.”

He feels her tense next to him. There are moments where she remembers that they are no longer a part of the Empire and that she does not necessarily _have_ to listen to him. Though, those moments only arise when he is forced to repeat instructions to her. It will pass, she’ll find her way to accept his instructions and accept they are no longer a part of a military together. But until then, she will complicate things for herself. He understands, she needs to do something to get back at him for putting her in the situation when she should be leading a group of her own. She wasn’t meant to follow in another footsteps forever. But she will have to do so now. 

“You know, the more you say that, the more it just sounds like you have faith in the boy,” Faro says. She looks up at him, challenge filling her eyes. “Faith in him as a Jedi.”

“There’s no reason to believe otherwise, that is all. He has had his tantrums before and has always returned from them. Why would I start believing otherwise?”

Shaking her head, she looks back out over the field briefly before going back to sit on the ground again. “He’s surprised you before when you thought you understood him. That’s why we’re lost out here.”

Thrawn stands there, waiting for the return of the other half of their group. Faro is now lying in the grass, perhaps taking a nap to save her strength for when they start moving again. She has grown a fair amount since they met. Or has he just underestimated how far behind she has left the military life. His gaze travels across the fields, a breeze passing through. He closes his eyes, breathing in deeply. He enjoys the warmth of this planet, even when it is too much to enjoy at times. They had spent far too long on their ship the last portion of their travelling. The warm scent filled air is most welcome. He stands there, a pillar erect tall in the vastness of grass, and waits for what is next.

“Thrawn! Faro! We’re back!”

He opens his eyes, turning to his left. Indeed, Pic and Bridger are coming into view, finally returning. He blinks a few times as his eyes re-adjust to the brightness of the afternoon’s sun. It takes him a moment but he quickly realizes that there is a third member to the return party. 

Walking back over to Faro, he nods to her. She understands immediately, quickly getting to her fight and ensuring her blaster is ready to be drawn. They stand together as Pic starts to run to close the distance. Bridger hangs back, stopping with the stranger to say something. Thrawn is loath to admit he feels his blood run in the slightest bit cold. 

And then Thrawn notices that this stranger is human, like the majority of this party. A human. They haven’t met another human in over a month now, this far out in the Unknown Regions is too far from where humans are willing to gather.

So, now there are three things he can gather from this return: One, it was a success, as Pic is in brighter spirits than when he had left. The success mostly likely being that there is food and a good supply of it. Two, that there are sentient beings that call this planet home. Ones that are not determined to kill on sight. And three, his party is not the first to land on this backwater world. 

“Sir!” Pic says as he stumbles slightly to a stop in front of them. “You won’t believe the luck we’ve had!”

Thrawn smiles. “I believe that you have found the civilization we have been desperately seeking.”

The young man frowns, rolls his eyes, and then brightens again. Yes, it’s clear that both he and Faro are struggling with how to interact with their former superior. “Well, yes. And we’ve found food. But this guy, says his name is Kell Nim, he’s not one of the locals.”

“What?” Faro asks. She steps forward, turning to look at the newcomer. He is now standing alone where Bridger talked to him. Bridger is currently walking over, carrying a small parcel in one hand. 

“He’s from the Outer Rim! He knows Basic! We’re not stranded like we thought we were!” His excitement is almost contagious. Thrawn can see it being absorbed into Faro. It is most definitely something to celebrate, even if all the dangers to it aren’t immediately obvious to them. Yes, they have made successful contact on this world, but why? Why is this Kell Nim still here? Why hasn’t he returned to the inner galaxy?

“I guess you were too excited to wait for me, huh, Ziven?” Bridger asks as he joins the three of them. 

Grinning, Pic shrugs. 

“What is your take on this happy discovery?” Thrawn inquires. He eyes Bridger as he glances over his shoulder quickly.

“Well, it’s pretty amazing. I don’t think any of us could have predicted finding someone from our neck of galaxy out here. It’s convenient, that’s for sure.” His words are obvious. While undoubtedly he feels this way, there’s more underneath this put on excited exterior. It’s odd how the more time they have travelled together, the harder it has become to understand what he is thinking. It has become harder to anticipate what he will say. “I don’t think we would have gotten much further out here if we didn’t luck out like this.”

“What else?”

Bridger meets his eyes and sighs. “I’m that easy to read, huh?” He turns away, watching the stranger, this Kell Nim, sit down on the ground with his back turned. A gust of wind passes through, weaving around the group. “There’s something wrong. This planet, it’s like it’s sick. I don’t know how to fully explain it. It isn’t like Lothal… something else is causing the deterioration, something is affecting it from its core. It’s not external. Kell said that the weather has been weird here, they haven’t had rain in a couple of weeks which is apparently off for this time of year. Something… something is hurting this world.

“It’s like there’s a fog settling in and suffocating everything is touches.”

Thrawn moves next to him, placing a hand on his shoulder to turn him back. “Were you aware of this when we landed here? Were you aware of it before then?”

He can feel Faro and Pic tense behind him. Maybe not the wisest move to indirectly accuse Bridger of forcing them to this planet. Nonetheless, these questions need answering. 

“Before we landed? I don’t know. I might have sensed something on the way down but it really wasn’t a priority at the time. Once we had landed? Yeah, immediately. It was like the planet shouted its pain at me, like it had been longing to tell someone that something was wrong.” He doesn’t hesitate in his response, not how he used to back on the _Chimaera_ when they were still trying to decide if they could be something resembling allies. No attempt to talk around the situation. 

“Is this what we have been searching for?”

Looking around the three he had once called his enemy—the three that on some days he must still view that way—Bridger nods. “Yes. I believe it is.”

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Thank you for reading the start of this journey! It's gonna be a long one to get through together and I hope you're excited as I am for it. 
> 
> I'm excited to share what a possible version of Ezra and Thrawn's adventures. It's cool to see all of our ideas and thoughts and wishes so here's mine. Lemme know as it goes one what you think. 
> 
> I post updates and snippets for upcoming chapters on [my tumblr](http://herasyndlla.tumblr.com/tagged/natww-tag).


	2. A Familiar Unknown

The afternoon air around him is warm. It always is, this time of year. It’s a bit cooler out here in the fields than in Capital City, he learned that one when he moved out to his tower a few years ago. It was nice, at the beginning, but then the winter rolled in and the nights started to get too cold. He doesn’t worry about that anymore. 

The golden-green grass dances around him as a warm summer wind passes through. He never knew why he’d pay attention to things like this, the wind and the grass and the animals and the occasional flower popping up. He knows now, it’s his connection to the Force, but growing up he just noticed these things and went about his day. 

Now, he likes to take the time to sit and really listen to what’s around him. It’s what he was taught to do.

“So, this is where you’ve been hiding,” Kanan calls from behind him. 

Grinning, Ezra twists around, brushing his hair out of his face, to look up at his teacher. His smile wavers. Wait, his hair is in his eyes? And why is Kanan wearing his armour again? He stopped wearing it when…

“I’m not hiding,” Ezra says, his train of thought disappearing as Kanan gets closer. This is more important than figuring out why things don’t make sense; he has to prove him wrong. “I’m meditating, following _your_ lessons.”

“Oh, sure, that’s why you’re out here away from the _Ghost_ after Sabine and Chopper made your morning a nightmare,” he says, laughing. Dropping down next to him, and crossing his legs, Kanan smirks. “You’re definitely not hiding.”

“I’m _not_. I’m being a Jedi,” Ezra mutters. He shifts to sitting cross-legged as well (crossing his arms for good measure) and glares up at Kanan. “Why are you out here? Just trying to find me?”

He nods and looks out at the field. Ezra looks him over. He’s younger, well, they both are right now. There aren’t any scars on either of their faces. He blinks. Why would there be scars there? Why is that weird? They’ve only just met, it’s only been a few months. They’re still permanently living on Lothal, they haven’t left to join the wider rebellion. The rebellion he isn’t aware of, yet.

“Take your time, it’ll make sense.”

Ezra closes his eyes. He takes a few deep breaths and waits for his mind to start clearing up. Kanan is right—he always is. It’s going to become clear soon, whatever is filling his mind with doubt and fear, and then they can work on that. 

When Kanan drops a hand on his left shoulder, he opens his eyes. It’s night now, colder. The nights have never really been that warm out here. The moons can’t offer any warmth to the world below them. Ezra doesn’t shiver but he’s starting to feel the night’s chill.

“Kanan, I’m scared.”

“I know.”

“I feel trapped. Not because of them, because of me. I can’t see the way out of this. It’s like the Force only let me know up until that moment and now it’s decided I just have to figure the rest out alone. I’m completely alone now.”

There’s no answer right away, Ezra almost laughs. He doesn’t look over at Kanan because there’s a very real chance that he’s not there and that he is actually alone. He can feel the weight of his hand but that could just be his mind playing a trick on him. So, he waits and holds his breath, hoping something will come. 

There’s a sigh and Kanan lifts his hand. “We’ve all felt that way, some of us maybe a bit more similarly than others.” They both chuckle even though it’s not that funny. “The Force shows us what we need to see. Your challenge now is that you are alone, figuratively, and that you need to find a way out. The Force can’t show you because the answer isn’t there yet. You have to decide what’s next.”

Ezra nods.

“It’s okay to be scared. You know that. And you know that you’re strong enough to work through that fear and not let it control you. You’ve made it this far, remember?”

“I know,” he replies. He looks up at Kanan and resists telling him that he wishes they had both made it this far. It would be a lot easier to handle all of this if he was here beside him. 

Kanan looks down at him, smiling. “I have something that will help. There’s a trick to your situation that’ll get you through this.”

Rolling his eyes, he says, “Is it pretending that I’m not scared? I hate to break it to you, Kanan, that doesn’t really work.”

“No,” Kanan says, gently pushing his shoulder. “Thrawn will know that you’re pretending, it won’t do anything for you. No, it’s remembering that he’s just as scared, just as trapped as you are.”

His eyes snap open and he has to blink a few times, adjusting to the brightness of the room. It takes him a moment to realize where he is. Or, where he might be. He’s not on the bridge of the _Chimaera_ anymore and that’s the last thing he remembers. Being there and holding Thrawn as a captive. He blinks a few more times, trying to hold onto what he had just dreamt. There was something important at the end, he needs to remember it. 

Ezra goes to lift his right hand to rub his eyes but his arm jerks oddly and doesn’t move more than an inch. 

“Yes, we thought it best to have you cuffed to the bed. My apologies for it seeming harsh despite our agreement on the bridge. I believe you can understand why I do not fully trust you,” a familiar cold and calculating voice says from somewhere in the room. It takes him a moment to remember who that voice belongs to, when he does he decides he’s not ready to talk. Not to this person.

Looking down at his hand, it is in fact cuffed to the bed he’s lying in. His other arm is in a sling, he guesses it’s nice of them to not have cuffed that one, too. He stares up at the ceiling again, trying to figure out what is happening. He’s in a room that is decidedly not a prison cell. He’s in a lot of pain but it seems like maybe he should be in more. Okay, so this is the medbay. That makes sense, Thrawn had shot him. But then why put him here? If they’re cuffing him to a bed that means he’s a prisoner. Why go through the trouble of making him comfortable, well… kind of comfortable, if they’re the victors in this situation. 

“I know you must have a great number of questions. As do I, Ezra Bridger. I hope we will be able to help each other through this,” Thrawn says. 

Ezra lifts his head and right shoulder as much as he can to look. He winces but he needs to see. Thrawn is standing closer to the hatchway than the bed, seemingly having been in a conversation with an Imperial medical droid. There are two stormtroopers standing at the door, both at attention. It’s bright in the room, starkly so. Ezra blinks again as he takes this all in. 

“You don’t have to cuff me, I’m not going to do anything,” Ezra states, shaking his hand as he speaks. He keeps to himself that he isn’t sure that he really could do anything if he even wanted to. They don’t need to know that. 

Thrawn nods to the droid and makes his way over to the bed. “While we may have promised no harm will come to you, you must understand that you have not made the same promise. You are also the reason we are stranded. For now, you will be detained until I am convinced you will not cause more harm to my crew.”

Lowering himself back down on, Ezra lets out a deep breath. He tries not to wince as he does so. He’s suddenly very tired again, despite having just woken up. “What happened?”

“An interesting question. What happened, indeed?” Thrawn repeats. He moves to the left side of the bed, probably because it feels safer on that side and not at all taking into account that maybe it’ll be difficult to look in that direction. “After you made that creature release me—”

“Purrgil. They’re called the purrgil. And I didn’t make it do anything.” 

“After the purrgil released me with your guidance, you fell unconscious. We sealed up the bridge and began to assess the situation you left us in,” Thrawn continues, breezing pass the interruption. He keeps his eyes on him as he speaks, Ezra can see this from the corner of his eye. “More of us survived than you would like; though, I imagine it was intended. Minimal casualties on each Star Destroyer; we here on the _Chimaera_ suffered the most. We do not know where we are. We have no means of hyperspace travel. You have stranded us out here in the unknown. You succeeded.”

Ezra lets out a shaky breath. Great. He did it. He _succeeded._ He blinks a few times, fighting back the tears that are suddenly springing up. He isn’t sure he likes how Jedi succeed in their fights, anymore. 

“So, what happens next? What are you going to do to me?” he asks. He does his best to look over his left shoulder, flinching as pain shoots up from the wound through his neck. 

“That is up to you, Ezra Bridger.”

✣✣✣

It’s hot today. It’s been hot all week. Not necessarily the most uncommon thing this time of year, but it is odd it hasn’t rained at all in the past couple of weeks. The fields are not happy about this. Sure, the occasional dry spell happens but there’s something weird about this one. Thinking back on past years, it always rains this month enough so that the crops make it through to the next month. There must have been years where no rain came but not recently. It’s almost unnatural.

Oo’lilana’nim chuckles at that. _Unnatural_. Now she sounds like the town’s folk. No, it’s completely natural. Some years are just bad for harvest, that’s just the nature of this life. Some years the crops just aren’t as strong. Which is why they store food throughout the year, just in case. The lack of rain isn’t even the main problem they’re facing this year; it’s the rot. It’s still shocking to see the disease spreading through their fields, even if it’s been a few weeks of it growing through the crop. And spreading so quickly. She can’t think of a time when something like this has ever happened. Bad years happen but they can always figure out why. There’s always been a reason when crops fail. There has to be a reason now. Things don’t just get sick for no reason. 

She looks down the row, trying to feel for another dying plant. It’s hard to say, but it does feel like this is the last of it, for today, at least. Still, nothing feels healthy around her. The ground beneath her feel has been sending ripples of illness through her every day this week. It’s been doing so on and off the whole month. She thinks the field will be okay for the rest of the day. She isn’t sure how it’s going to be tomorrow. Normally, she can tell when a plant is coming to its end. Now it’s anyone’s guess.

Her world feels sick. How do you fix a sick world?

Taking off her hat, she wipes off the sweat that’s starting to trickle down her forehead. It is a bit ridiculous how hot it is today. At least there’s those clouds in the distance, hopefully they’ll get here in the next couple of days. A change in this weather would be everything.

“Lilana, bring your basket here, I found another,” her mother calls. Lilana looks up from the dead vegetable she’s holding and sighs. She drops it in her basket and starts for her mother, putting her hat back on. 

“Is yours really already full?” Lilana asks, weaving her way through the field. It’s easier walking back, just step where the dead vegetables used to be. No need to worry about damaging what good crops are left. 

“Yes, it’s getting worse. But we’re okay for now, the majority of the field is still healthy,” her mother says. She smiles as she approaches. “Did you find many?”

Lilana shrugs and drops her basket next to her mother’s full one. “Not as many as you, but we still have the second field to check.”

Her mother, Oo’trileh’nim, rubs her eyes and then drops the rotten vegetable into the basket. They aren’t large baskets; they can be carried one handed even when they’re filled, but to see the two full, it’s unnerving. What will the second field have? Is it worse over there? The word unnatural floats through her head again as she stares down at the vegetables.

“We’ll stop for today. It’s getting late and I want us to start making dinner before your father is home. There’s no point starting the second field, now.”

Nodding, Lilana picks up her mother’s basket and frowns. “We would have gotten to it if Timna were here helping like he’d promise.”

Oo’trileh’nim chuckles and picks up the second basket. “Yes, we would have gotten so much more down having to split our time with the task and telling your brother to focus.”

“He promised he’d actually show up this time,” she grumbles. 

“He’s not a farmer, he didn’t take to it like the rest of us.”

“Okay, but he should still be here. _I’m_ here.”

Smiling, her mother reaches over and runs a hand across her cheek. “You love these fields more than any of us, your brother loves to live with his head in the clouds. You both do your chores and you both live happy lives. I will not punish your brother for wandering off more some days in the year than others. You shouldn’t either.”

Lilana rolls her eyes and readjusts her grip. She leads the way towards the fence. It’s finally starting to cool, the sun is starting its slow descent to the horizon. It’ll be out for a good number of hours, still, but at least she’s going to stop sweating as much. All she wants right now is to change her clothes and lie down until dinner is ready. If she’s lucky, Timna will stay away until then so her bad mood doesn’t worsen.

“What’s taking you guys so long?” a voice calls from the fence. A voice that is annoying and far too familiar. Lilana glares at her twin brother who is just casually leaning on the fence, grinning and waving.

“Oh, it might be that we just spent hours combing the fields without any extra help, Timna!” she shouts back at him. She hears her mother sigh next to her but it doesn’t matter. He deserves a little chewing out if he’s going to act like he did nothing wrong. 

Timna waits until they can all properly see each other to roll his eyes at her. He brushes his shaggy hair out of his eyes and grins. “Well, hurry up, Dad’s on his way back.”

Lilana places her basket on his side of the fence before climbing out. He graciously takes the basket from their mother as she climbs out as well. “You could have helped out today and we’d all be at home ready for Dad, you know,” she says, shoving his shoulder. 

“Okay, sure, but Dad’s not coming home yet. He’s just on his way back to the town.”

Lilana raises a brow at that. 

“What do you mean, sweetheart?” their mother asks.

“He found a group of travellers while he was out hunting so he’s going to have to see Aa'cloom'nam, right? Dad can’t just bring a bunch of strangers home for dinner like someone’s family tried,” he explains, laughing at the end. 

Oo’trileh’nim shakes her head and gestures at them to start walking. “How do you know all of this?” she asks as they start the trek back to the house. 

“Come on, Mom, you know how,” he answers, leading them. Lilana catches up to him, matching his pace. They do know how, though their mother continues to question it. They just _know_. They always know what their parents are doing, and Timna is particularly good at finding out what anyone is doing. She has her plants and he has people. They just know things.

At the house, they’re told to take the baskets to the back as they are not going to have that smell stink up their house. Lilana leads him this time, knowing where everything from the gathering up of rotten crops the day before are. 

Timna stares at the now three baskets sitting on the ground. 

“It’s getting worse, isn’t it? I can even feel how bad it’s getting now and we both know I’ll never understand plants like you do.” 

She nods, and wraps an arm around his shoulders. “We’ll figure it out. Between Mom, Dad, and me, there’s no way we won’t be able to save the crops this year.” She gives him a quick squeeze before continuing, “Come on, you said Dad would be headed into town first, right? If we leave right now, we should catch up to him and can avoid Mom telling us not to go.”

“That’s a very me thing to suggest, you know?” he says. 

“I’m allowed to be curious about strangers, too! Dad was the last one to come to our planet and obviously we weren’t there for that. I want to see what they look like,” she retorts. “Do you want to stay and help with dinner instead?”

He grins at her before leaning to the left to look into the house. Whatever he sees, it seems to ensure him that this plan will work. 

“Let’s go.”

✣✣✣

Ziven slows his pace to fall in time with Faro. She stopped trying to keep up when she seemed to have realized that Kell Nim was more interested in Ezra than either her or Thrawn. He himself is still really interested in the conversation but there’s no harm in getting on Faro’s good side as best he can. She might not officially be a superior officer anymore, but she could still make his life hell if she wanted to. And he definitely didn’t want that.

She eyes him as he matches her step but turns her attention back to the trio leading their way.

“Lothal, huh? I know that planet. Stopped on there once,” Kell says, smiling down at Ezra. “Beautiful place, those fields went on forever.”

Ezra smiles up at him and says, “It was, yeah.”

Letting out a deep sigh, Ziven turns his attention from them. The fields around them here are almost as beautiful as the ones on Lothal used to be. Maybe a bit drier, but still, the endless green sea of waving blades of grass is stunning. He can see why Lothal fought so hard against them. He can see that now, though he had never seen that before Lothal. Seven months later and it’s still weird knowing what they did to Ezra and his home. It’s still weird trying to figure out where he stands with what they did to Ezra. 

“What was the name of this planet, again?” Faro asks, pulling him out of the confusion he was sitting in.

“Hm? Oh, he said it was Oosrad,” he answers. “The town we’re heading to is Esdia, I think.”

She nods and falls back into silence. Maybe it was a mistake walking with her; sure he wants to be in her good books but it’s clear she doesn’t really care about him. Before this that wouldn’t have mattered, since when did superior officers ever care about a subordinates? But now it would be nice if she tried to warm up a little bit. They’re all equals now, sort of. 

Well, he can at least give it a shot, again. Anything to ignore the guilt he’s feeling about Ezra.

“What are the odds we find someone all the way out here from our neck of the galaxy?”

Faro shoots him a glare then looks back ahead. “He’s not from my region. I’ve never even heard of his backwater Outer Rim world. The known galaxy is too big to equate it all as the same.”

Rolling his eyes, Ziven takes a breath and tries again. “Well, it’s still weird. And I get how, but to meet someone who’s never heard of the Empire is sort of… well…”

“Weird?” she supplies. 

“Yeah. I wonder how long he’s been here. It’s been awhile since the Republic fell and he still thought that was our government.” He pauses, looking out at the fields.

“This is definitely the weirdest day we’ve come across so far in our travels,” he continues. He lifts his arms up, resting them on the back of his head. “It’s like we were meant to run into this guy or something, you know?”

She slows down next to him, turning slightly as they walk. “What do you mean?”

“Hey, have you noticed how twitchy Ezra has been today? Twitchier than normal?”

They both look ahead at Ezra, who is listening intently to Kell describe what his original homeworld was like. It’s the most at ease he’s seen the Jedi in weeks. It’s not like he was always strung up being stuck travelling with them; really only Thrawn can put him into a bad mood. It’s just evident that he’s always going to be aware of who he’s travelling with. So, he’s not always calm and relaxed. And today, even more so. He might be listening to Kell talk, and focused on that, but he does keep looking around the group periodically. 

“Perhaps, though you’d know better. You’ve spent more time with him today than I have,” Faro says. “What does it matter?”

“Well, he can always tell if something’s going to happen. Shouldn’t we be a bit worried?” he asks.

She doesn’t answer him right away. She knows how to take her time with an answer, allowing herself to see all the possibilities that can and will present themselves. He doesn’t quite understand how to do that, but there was a reason he was streamed into being a stormtrooper and not an officer. Thrawn got lucky in the draw of who would work for him, it seems. 

Signs of civilization were beginning to appear when she answers him; a fence starting to shepherd them towards what looks like a dirt path. A few meters away, a lamp is hanging and is already lit to show the way in the now dimming evening light. “Keep an eye on him. While he would normally inform us of any dangers, we still can’t fully trust him.”

“Faro, I think we can trust him seven months in. It’s him who should be worried of trusting us, isn’t it?” Ziven asks. He looks Ezra over again an sighs. “We’re the ones that ruined his life.”

“We’re useful to each other, that doesn’t equal trust. I know you’re fond of him, for whatever reason, but remember: less than a year ago, you two would have tried to kill each other on sight and most likely he would have been the one to succeed. He isn’t the first Force user I’ve worked with, you can’t ever fully trust them,” she says. She gives him a stern look before picking up her step and matches pace with Thrawn. 

Ziven stays where he is, mulling over her words. It’s true that if he had come across Ezra on the _Chimaera_ when he was making his way to take the bridge, he would have fired at him. And he probably would have died. After Ezra had been detained, they heard the body count of his take over. Not as high as one would suspect given everything the Empire would claim and perpetuate about the Jedi, but it wasn’t nothing. People died. Soldiers who had families and hopes and futures died. But people on Lothal had also died that day, many of whom hadn’t asked to fight in the war. The war the Empire was spreading. 

Looking around, he wonders what the Empire would do if they made it out this far. There’s bound to be endless resources here (as endless as those are before the world is stripped and burned). He was taught practically since the birth that the galaxy would finally be allowed to thrive with the Empire in charge. The Republic and the Jedi almost ruined the future, fighting an endless war against the Seperatist but then Emperor Palpatine came and showed everyone the true path to peace. And he believed it all. Why wouldn’t he? He was so young when the shift happened, it was all he had ever really known. 

But Ezra is younger and he saw through the sham. He saw what the Empire was becoming, or what it’s always been.

The alliance that they have going now is one out of necessity, that much is definitely true. But there had to be trust. Faro and Thrawn both view all of this through the strategies they are going to need to survive and it’s working. But Ezra isn’t. He’s doing what he can to keep them all alive, sure, but he isn’t look at this as some military mission they need to completely plan. He’s just doing what needs to be down to keep them alive. To keep them actually living. 

“Welcome to Esdia!” Kell announces. 

Ziven looks up and sees that the group is stopped a good distance ahead of him. He runs to catch up, smiling at Ezra when he raises an eyebrow at him. He takes in the sight and whistles. It’s a small looking town but one of the most colourful ones they’ve come across in their travels. Paint is covering every surface of every building, probably telling visitors exactly what this place is about. He steals a glance at Thrawn who is also focused on the colours filling the town. At least he’s guaranteed to enjoy himself while they’re here, there’s bound to be tons of art if this is what the surface of the town is like. 

It’s hard to gauge how big of a place this is, they passed at least one farm on their way in, which means that the community is bigger than just the immediate centre of town. None of the buildings are over three stories. This is far from the metropolises he was used to growing up. A healthy but not large community. Everyone probably knows each other, or at least knows of each other. So, everyone is going to know about them almost immediately.

_Well, time to plunge in_, he thinks as Kell starts to lead them fully back into civilization.

✣✣✣

“Did you tell everyone?” Lilana asks, shoving his arm.

“No, I only told you guys and Mom, I guess Dad was spotted when he was getting close,” Timna replies. He sighs. He hoped that they would just be able to go talk to their dad with these newcomers before they went to see Aa'cloom'sann, but that’s a small town; news travels fast.

They’re sitting out front of a friend’s family store, watching more and more people coming out to line the main street. A sea of green bodies were filing in, chattering amongst themselves. Every now and then, eyes would land on them and the owners would always start whispering to their neighbour. Timna tucked his hair behind his ear, wishing not for the first time he’d follow suit with his sister and just shave it so he’d fit in with his people. 

“Stop messing with it,” his friend says next to him. Aa’noonun’nil reaches over and takes his hand, pulling it away from his head. “Your hair is fine.”

Smiling weakly, he takes his hand back, resting it on his lap. Aa’noonun’nil is one of the few people in their town how has never commented on how different they look. From having hair to more distinct pupils, it can be hard when every day you’re reminded of the ways you don’t fit in. It’s lessened as they grew older, but now everything seems to be coming back: the stares, the whispers, the quiet wondering of what they actually are. He can’t blame his people too much, they aren’t used to outsiders and have one stay and become a part of their way of community must have been off putting at first. But he and Lilana have never been outsiders. It hurts when their town views them as such. 

“I think I see him,” Lilana says, standing up. He and Aa’noonun’nil copy her, looking down the road. 

Sure enough, their father was now making his way down the main street, talking to… 

“Humans,” he mutters. 

“Except the blue guy,” Aa’noonun’nil whispers next to him. “Any idea what that guy is? Unless humans can come with blue skin.”

He shakes his head, elbowing his friend lightly. “He isn’t a human, though I have no idea what he is. Dad didn’t show us any aliens that really looked like that, but it’s not like he had a holocatologue of every alien in the galaxy.”

The three of them watch as Kell makes his way through the crowd. There are four people with him: the fairly tall blue man who they can now see has red eyes, a boy who might be around their age (Timna can’t really tell but in his defence he’s only ever known one human in his life) with hair so black it’s almost blue and skin that’s a warm brown, a woman with pale skin and brown hair like their father, and finally a young man with dark brown and black tightly curled hair bringing up the rear and looking amazed at his surroundings. It’s an interesting group, to say the least. 

His eyes fall on the dark haired boy again just before he catches his father waving at him. He grins and waves back, Lilana doing so as well. The blue man turns to look at them, his expression unreadable. Timna swallows and focuses back on his father.

Kell doesn’t stop to talk to them, nothing more than a wave and he’s back to leading the group. 

“C’mon,” Timna says, grabbing his sister’s hand. They quickly say goodbye to their friend before heading in the direction of the town’s centre. If they move quick enough, they can get into the L’uunaal before it’s too crowded. They are not going to miss a chance to hear more about their father’s people. 

“Did you know that Dad had found more humans?” Lilana asks as they start to weave their way through the thickening crowd.

“No, just that he had found people and was excited about it. Weird coincidence, though.”

“It’s not that weird, humans have been here before.”

“Yeah, like hundreds of years ago. For three more to show up two decades after Dad? His part of the galaxy must be really messed up or something if they keep ending up here.”

Lilana doesn’t answer but he can feel her annoyance with him. She isn’t into speculation like he is, so trying to guess with no information why anyone would be here isn’t going to be her favourite activity. But, even she would have to admit that it’s weird they even ended up in their region of the planet. The odds of that are so unlikely. And yet, here they all are.

The L’uunaal is already filled up, everyone squeezing in where they can. For what it’s used for, it’s a fairly small place: only one circular room, large enough to comfortably hold a meeting of around fifty people but not the entire town. A sign of how much their community has grown over the generations. It’s the oldest building, aside from maybe a house or two. Every year the walls inside a restored, their murals brightened and added to. The history surrounds the occupants to remind them of where they came from and that there will always be a future for the people of Esdia. At least, that’s what all the adults tell the children upon their first visit.

They squeeze their way in, pushing their way through the crowded building to stand by one of the pillars. Timna watches the doorway, the group of newcomers are all standing there waiting to be told what to do next. Kell is talking to Aa'cloom'sann, his voice hushed so it doesn’t carry into the surrounding crowd. An interesting thing, that somehow draws Timna’s attention, is that the blue man, his focus is on the walls. He’s clearly captivated by what he can see of the mural. The others in the group are just taking in the people around them. Though, the boy in the group seems to be distracted. He’s scanning the crowd like there’s someone there for him to find. Which is impossible, why would he be looking for anyone?

“Welcome, travellers. I am Aa'cloom'sann, the head of this town and region of Oosrad,” Aa'cloom'nam proclaims. He steps forward and the room goes silent. He’s not the oldest in the town, but he is the most revered. For as long as Timna can remember, Aa'cloom'sann has led their people. He also is one who has never judge him or his sister for being half human. The travellers all look to him and wait. “I am sure that you are all tired from your travels but we must ask a bit of your time before you can rest for the day.”

Without a pause, Kell repeats what was said in his own language, Basic. Obviously none of them would understand Luugaal. Even if they had come across any language from this world out there in the galaxy, Luugaal would be the last one they’d find. It’s definitely used by the least amount of people on Oosrad.

The blue man steps forward and nods to the room. “Thank you for your hospitality. We will gladly answer whatever questions we can.” Kell repeats this to their leader and the room. While he had been here for over twenty years, not many in the village have learned much of his native language. It’s easier to just translate. Timna keeps himself from sighing; this is going to take so long, everything having to be repeated. Plus, annoying since he knows both languages. 

Aa'cloom'sann smiles and gestures to the space in front of him before sitting down on the floor. The group of four slowly make their way into the centre of the room and sit, Kell sitting to the side. The younger boy is sitting with his back to him and Lilana, though Timna’s gaze keeps falling on that back. Despite everything going on, the faint whispers and newcomers and the promise of something interesting finally happening in their tiny town, he can’t stop turning his gaze back to this boy. Timna has the feeling Lilana is in the same situation, he can see from his peripheral that she’s focusing on him as well.

“To begin, who are you?” their leader asks, directing the question to the blue man. He’s clearly been deemed the leader of this group, which is probably a fair assessment with the amount of confidence and arrogance coming off of him.

“I am Mitth’raw’nuruodo, though you may also call me Thrawn. These are my companions: Karyn Faro, Ziven Pic, and Ezra Bridger. We are merely travellers, perhaps a bit lost at the moment,” Thrawn says, leaning forward ever so slightly. He is clearly used to holding the attention of a room this size and is easily doing it now despite only a handful understanding him before the translation. 

“Mitth’raw’nuruodo, would you care to explain how you ended up on this world? We do not receive travellers often.”

The dark skinned man, Ziven, laughs and nudges Ezra. Timna notices that Ezra doesn’t seem to be paying full attention, jumping at his friend’s touch. “Yeah, that’s pretty obvious given the crowd.”

“Pic, please,” Thrawn says. He turns back to Aa'cloom'sann and answers, “It is purely chance we landed here. Our ship was having difficulties and this was the only habitable planet for us to seek refuge on. Unfortunately, our landing was less than smooth which is why we began to search for some sort of civilization. We were fortunate to cross paths with Kell Nim.”

The room begins to whisper after the translation; a ship is crashed somewhere out in the wilderness. It’s almost as exciting and bewildering as having its passengers in front of them. The last ship to land here belonged to Kell and has since been broken down for parts for the various machinery in town. It’s obvious that some minds are wondering what supplies and parts they’ll be able to salvage given the opportunity.

“We, of course, do not intend to overstay our welcome here. We will be on our way once we can make repairs to our ship,” Thrawn continues. 

“And why should we let you leave?” The question brings to room to silence again. Timna swallows and glances at his sister. They have never heard Aa'cloom'sann speak with such a threatening tone. When they father landed here, they were told he was welcomed fairly warmly into the community. “What guarantee do we have that you will not bring others back here?”

Thrawn leans forward again, his red eyes narrowing. Ezra, though a person between them, starts to lean towards his supposed leader. But a blue hand raises and Thrawn nods. “You do not have a guarantee other than our word. Whether we’d like to return here with more allies or not, there is no chance of that happening. We are alone out here, you needn’t worry about an attack to this world.”

“Where are you from?” The question comes directly from Kell, who quickly repeats what he said in Luugaal. 

“As we said on the way here, we are from various planets in the galaxy’s core, though we came into the region from the Outer Rim. Lothal, specifically,” Thrawn answers. 

Aa'cloom'sann leans back and sighs. “I apologize for this less than warm welcome. We are facing a harsh season ahead of us and do not wish for any complications. You are welcome to stay here as long as you will need to. Kell has already offered to allow you to stay on his property, they have the space as well as the distance from town to allow you some privacy while you are here. Plus, he and his family will be able to communicate with you more successfully. I must admit, I have not been able to grasp your language that well, yet.”

“Thank you, Aa'cloom'sann, we appreciate this immensely.” Thrawn reaches across the space, offering his hand. Smiling, Aa’cloom’sann takes his hand. 

“Kell, show them to your home. Everyone here, please, return to your activities. I’m sure you will get the chance to meet this group throughout their stay, but for now, give them their space.”

It’s a firm dismissal and no one here is brave enough to argue against it. Slowly, the town’s people begin to trickle out, chattering as they do. It’s all the town will be talking about, even months after these strangers leave. They’ll discuss it to the point that it’ll become just another boring part about living here. 

As the crowd dissipates, Timna looks back to Ezra. He’s talking to Ziven, finally smiling. It’s a nice smile and he seems like a person who used to smile a lot. Smiling himself, Timna tries to listen to what the group is talking about but there’s still too many voices in the room and too much space between them. 

“You okay?” Lilana asks, leaning against the pillar now that the space around it is clearing. 

“Sure, why wouldn’t I be?”

“You seem distracted.”

Sighing, Timna looks over to her, dragging his stare away from the strange boy captivating him. “This guy, Ezra, does he seem, well, weird to you? Or, different from the others somehow?” 

She looks over to the group, her lips tightening. Then, she nods. “I had a feeling you picked up on that, too.”

“It’s like I’m being drawn to him, like something about him is calling out for… well, something. I can’t figure it out. I’ve never felt connected to anyone like this other than you,” he says, turning to her as he lowers his voice. 

“Yeah. I feel the same.”

They both turn to look at the group again and Timna stands up straight. Ezra is staring back at them now, looking just as shocked as they feel.

✣✣✣

Ezra furrows his brows. “Up to me? What do you mean?”

Pulling a stool over and sitting down, Thrawn tells the two stormtroopers to wait outside. When they hesitate, he says, “There’s nothing in here to harm me. I need a moment to speak privately with Bridger. I will be out shortly.” 

The two troopers take their time, nonetheless, not wanting to disobey an order but not at all trusting Ezra to remain docile. He keeps himself from laughing. They really have no idea who has all the power here. The hatchway slides close, leaving the two of them alone. He leans back into the bed, not ready to get into a debate with Thrawn; he’s too tired. He can feel sleep gnawing at him, trying to capture him again.

“Yes, it is up to you.”

“I don’t know what you think I can do, I’m just as blind out here as you.”

Thrawn shifts next to him. “Are you? We have no means of navigation out here as we have no idea where we are. While the ships can each move, we are without hyper drivers for the time being, so there is no means of returning to the known regions of the galaxy. We cannot return nor can we move forward with the technology we have. You, however, do not need to rely on such things. You are a Jedi, you have the ability to use the Force. You can guide us through this.”

This time he can’t keep from laughing. “Guide you? Why would I do that?”

The answer doesn’t come right away. Ezra takes a deep breath and slowly turns in the bed, as much as he can, to look at Thrawn. He winces, there’s no way to hide it, but he needs to see what’s happening. Thrawn is just watching him, studying him. Maybe seeing him in a new light, this look is completely different from how he viewed him in his office, even when he got up to the bridge. Maybe similar to when Thrawn realized things were going to progress in an unpredictable manner but right now he’s too tired to try and figure out what this man thinks of him. He might not be able to figure out what Thrawn is thinking but there’s nothing dismissive about his gaze now. 

“That is an excellent question,” Thrawn finally says. He stands up and makes for the door. It opens, revealing the four waiting stormtroopers. He pulls out a datapad and gestures for the two troopers to return inside. He looks over his shoulder and says, “Why.”

Then he steps out of the room leaving Ezra to think.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Hope you guys enjoyed this chapter. Let me know what you think. It was fun properly introducing the OC POVs this chapter. I like writing them, hope you guys like reading them.
> 
> I post updates and snippets for upcoming chapters on [my tumblr](http://herasyndlla.tumblr.com/tagged/natww-tag).


	3. Finding Connections Out Here

“Well, not as easy going of a first meeting as I had hoped, but at least it’s over with,” Kell says, smiling. “Could have been a whole worse, so we should all feel really good about that.”

Ezra turns away from the two people staring at him. They look different from the rest of the villagers. Everyone has green skin, of varying shades, and no hair. Pointed ears and slits where noses would be on a human. Here, everyone’s eyes are a deep violet colour, irises and pupils just noticeable in a varying shade, like Thrawn’s red ones. Similar bodies to humans or twi’leks or other humanoid species from his region of the galaxy, but he’s sure there are a lot of differences he’ll never know about. But the two staring at him are surprisingly human looking. The boy has dark brown hair and the girl probably did as well, given the eyebrows they both have. Maybe she shaves her head to fit in. And they have noses. Green skin like the rest of their town and, while more similar to a human’s eye make up, violet eyes. Maybe they’re from a neighbouring town, there’s always the possibility that this planet’s species has numerous variations. 

But that isn’t what’s striking about them. One’s outside appearances mean little for what’s truly going on within them. No, with them, it’s the fact that he can feel them. Feel them through the Force. Ezra knows that everyone is connected to the Force, everyone resonates within it, but these two feel like they’re singing. It’s been too many months since he’s felt something like this in another. Not since the Jedi temple on Lothal. To find that out here, without even having to search for it, to hope for it...

“As Aa’cloom’nam said, I’ll be taking you all to my home for your time here. My family has a farm and there’s enough space in the barn for all of you. Not the most luxurious of residences, but it’s better than sleeping outside,” Kell continues.

Ziven smiles and claps a hand on Kell’s back. “We’ve had enough of sleeping outside to last us a lifetime.”

Smiling as well, Ezra tries to keep from looking over his shoulder at the two behind him. He can still feel them in the building. While most of the town’s citizens have left at this point, they are exactly where they’ve been the whole time. Why won’t they leave? He looks around his group and sees that Thrawn is staring intently at him now, no longer looking at Kell. 

“Shall we go? We’ve been walking most of the day, I think it’s time we settled for the night,” Faro asks, stretching her arms over her head. “I, at least, would really like to settle for the night.”

Kell nods, and looks past Ezra. “Sure, just one more thing. Timna, Lilana, stop hovering and come meet our guests.”

Ezra stiffens. He doesn’t need to turn to know who he was talking to. 

The two who had been watching from the pillar come up to stand next to Kell. Next to him, some immediate resemblances become apparent. They have his eyes, despite colour, and have the same mouth (and, obviously, have their father’s nose). And the boy has his hair. They both try to smile but they can’t take their eyes off of Ezra. He can’t force himself to look away, now, either.

“These are my kids, Aa’timna’nim and Oo’lilana’nim, and most likely they’re here without their mother’s permission as she isn’t here with them,” Kell says. He ruffles his son’s hair before gently pushing him. Ezra feels his stomach tighten was he watches, a longing he thought he had forced to the background rising up anew. “I guess there’s no reason to introduce the four of you. They’ll both be more than happy to help you out while you’re here. Right, kids?”

The girl rolls her eyes as her brother sighs. “Yeah, Dad,” the boy says. He smiles up at his father before looking to the group. “Call me Timna and her Lilana, though, it’ll be easier. Everyone just calls us that,” he says and his eyes land on Ezra. 

Neither of them blinks, feeling the pull of the Force. At least, Ezra feels that, and he can only assume that this strange boy feels it as well. It’s all consuming, it’s everything. It’s easy to completely fall into this connection, this ability to connect, after months of loneliness within the Force. It was the first time he truly understood what Kanan had gone through after having lost everything. It wasn’t just the people he was everyday, the family he loved, the places he knew; he had lost being connected to thousands of people. He must have been so empty for years. Until he found some street kid who could give him that connection. Now, he has that connection again and it’s almost too much to bear, though he doesn’t ever want to drop the weight of it. 

A cough next to him brings Ezra’s focus back to the whole group. Thrawn nods to him before saying, “We are grateful for the lodging. I do believe it is time to head there.”

Smiling, Kell links arms with his daughter and leads the way out. She glances over her shoulder once before turning her attention to where they're going. Timna follows after them, though he doesn’t spare another look at Ezra. 

“Weird kids,” Ziven says as he begins to walk. Faro shakes her head and follows. 

Next to go is Thrawn, who takes a few steps before looking back. “Bridger, shall we?”

The look he’s being offered makes him shiver. Thrawn is always analyzing everything. It’s usually pretty easy to ignore but when it’s directed at you, it’s a glaring reminder of how his brain is always working. Ezra nods and walks with him, letting the group leading them through town. He tries to ignore that the whole time the analysis doesn’t end. 

As they walk, Kell points out to them locations and people. They stop occasionally as a townsperson wants to have a conversation, though it’s more likely they just want to have a good look at the newcomers. By the time they get to the Kell’s property, the sun has set completely. 

“Welcome to the Nim farm!” Kell announces, spreading out his arms. “It’s not much, but we get by. Your, for now, home away from home.” It’s an interesting shaped home. Rounder than Ezra’s used to seeing in a house, though if he compared it to what he saw on Krownest than his house of Lothal might as well have been a cylinder and this a complete sphere. It’s not really a sphere, its walls rise straight from the ground with similarly curved corners to the buildings like in Lothal’s cities, but it’s roof is domed. It’s two-stories tall, and probably made of some sort of stone. There’s light filling all the windows on the first floor, the second floor in darkness. Behind the house there are a few fields, growing whatever the native produce is. There’s a second building, most likely the barn, built in the same style as the house, though much longer. It’s amazing how much space they have. It reminds Ezra a little bit of Sumar’s farm. Almost as if he took a house from the capital and plunked it out here in a giant field. It must be nice to have so much space to grow up in, no worrying about getting in the way of neighbours or authorities. 

Kell pauses after finishing his introduction of the property, looking over at the farmhouse and sighing. He turns back to them and says, “Perhaps you should all wait out here. I’ll go talk to my wife, warn her that we’re going to have some guests for awhile. No need to drop this on her, you know?”

“Yeah, I don’t think that’s going to work out for you, Dad,” Timna says, pointing past him. 

The group looks over and Lilana begins to laugh. A woman is making her way over, a steady pace and filled with purpose. Ezra grins; he knows that walk. He’d seen it when maybe he and Kanan had taken a little too long training and forgot to be back on time before a job. His smile fades. 

“Oo’trileh’nim, honey! I’ve got exciting news for you!” Kell calls out, smiling openly at the woman closing the distance, though there is worry clear in his voice. 

“Oh, I heard all about these newcomers from Timna and then the Nool household. They had the decency to inform me,” she says as she approaches. She’s speaking in Basic, her accent is thick but her voice clear as day. No doubt she’s fine having her “guests” hear this conversation that could have easily been in her own language. She looks over the group before turning to her children. “And you two, I hope you have a good reason for running off without saying anything. I’d like to hear it later. Go into the house and set the table since I had no help preparing this meal.”

Their faces fall at their mother’s words. They nod and head for the house, not even sparing a final look at the group. Ezra smiles again; he’s been there before, too. Watching this family has brought back the longing Ezra felt more strongly the first couple of months after Lothal but now he’s more willing to feel it. At least he had had this.

Kell walks over to his wife, wrapping an arm around her waist. She looks up at him, accusation clearly seconds from falling from her mouth before she sighs. “I know you have your reasons for this and it isn’t that I disagree, I just wish—”

“You wish I had sent word ahead, I know,” he finishes her sentence, kissing the top of her head. “I’ll make it up to you.” Then he says something to her in her language and she laughs. 

Pushing him away as she controls her laughter, she looks the four of them over. “As you heard, I’m Oo’trileh’nim. You are welcome here. Introduce yourselves as we head to the house,” she says, gesturing towards her home. 

It’s the simplicity and comfort of the evening that led to it going by so quickly. Once inside, Timna and Lilana insist on giving a tour of the house, though it’s a short one when their mother says to not go upstairs. The first floor is only two rooms; the main room for eating and spending any hours they could in leisure, as well as the staircase to the second floor. The kitchen is larger than Ezra was used to, though it wasn’t like he lived in a large house ever. The main room of this house alone is bigger than what was the first floor of his childhood home. Their dinner is wonderous after months of trying their best to make meals out of what they could get their hands on. The meat is from this planet’s cattle, an animal called a ranfif. It doesn’t taste at all like anything Ezra’s had before, but he likes it more than nerf. There are so many vegetables and fruits, he has no idea where to start placing them amongst the food he’s had in his life, though jogans probably stays near the top of that list. And meilooruns. Over dinner, they’re told that they will be staying in the barn that’s really more of a workshop since they don’t raise any livestock on this land anymore. It’s an older building but it will keep them dry (Timna laughs at this, saying they’d probably be drier sleeping outside given what the weather has been like). They also find out that Timna and Lilana are twins. They don’t learn how long Kell has been here, though given the age of the twins at least two decades have passed. While it would be exciting to learn that tale, Ezra has a feeling that right now they’d only get the edited version of it, not the entire thing. So, instead, the whole meal has the unasked and unanswered question of why anyone from the core of the galaxy would end up all the way out here hanging over their heads. 

It’s an awkward meal and the best Ezra has had in almost a year.

“So,” Timna says, as they now all walk into the barn, “it’s a bit of a mess in here, Dad and I have been meaning to clean it up for weeks but we kept putting it off. Just shove anything in the way to the side, there’s nothing delicate in here.” 

The twins offered to take them to the barn, probably to avoid the unpleasant conversation they’re going to have to have with their mother as soon as everyone settles in for the night. Everyone is carrying some sort of bedding, mostly extra pillows since they all have bedrolls from their travels.

It is a mess in the barn. Various tools for farming are scattered around the space, in varying states of repair. There are a few stalls remaining on one side, a sign that animals had once been kept here, though now they’re all filled with just more equipment. Timna is currently trying to move some of the mess aside, Ziven dropping his bedding to help. Lilana just shakes her head at her brother before telling them where they can wash up out here. There’s even an old outside they can use to reveal themselves during the night so they don’t have to trek over to the house in the dark for the refresher. 

“Thank you,” Thrawn says with a nod once the floor has been cleared. A lantern as been turned up, dim but strong enough to cast a light over the whole space. He looks the twins over, a faint smile on his lips. “Please thank your parents for all of us again.”

“It’s nothing,” Timna answers. He wipes his hands on his pants before leaning against one of the worktables. “We’ll try and clear more of this stuff out while you guys are staying here. We don’t really want anything falling on any of you.”

Ziven laughs, “Yeah, that wouldn’t be great.”

“If there’s anything you guys need, don’t hesitate to ask,” he continues, flashing a grin over to Ziven. “You’ll have to come to the house, we don’t have any of the fancy communication stuff you guys are used to. But, it’s not that far of a walk, so it shouldn’t be an issue.”

“Thank you, Timna. We’ll let you know,” Faro says this time. She’s seated on one of the bedrolls, unpacking her bag. She looks pointedly up at him, her desire that they leave written across her face. 

“We should get going,” Lilana interjects, reaching over to her brother. He blinks a few times, having clearly missed the unspoken request from the adults. He makes his way to her side, his eyes staying on Ezra as he passes him. “Stay on the property tonight; there’s nothing in the area that can hurt you if you wandered off but it’ll be easier for the town to accept that you’re here if you don’t go sneaking around.” She links her arm around her brother’s and starts to pull him out of the building. 

“One of us will bring you food down in the morning!” Timna calls back over his shoulder just as the barn door is shut.

Once they’re gone, Ezra lets out a deep breath he didn’t realize he was holding. He can still feel them, almost as though they’re in the room, but it’s easier to think now without the close proximity. He quietly unrolls his bedroll before dropping his bag on top of it. 

He should be tired, he should be like Ziven who’s already lying down, or even Faro who’s taking notes on their only functioning datapad. Thrawn is simply standing to the side, thinking about something; probably trying to understand every aspect of the family from only one interaction with them. But Ezra can only think about Lilana and Timna. About his connection to him. It’s distracting and captivating and completely energizing. 

With a sigh, he turns to head to the barn doors. 

“Where are you going?” Ziven asks, lifting up onto his elbows. 

“Just to the fields outside, I’m not going to go wander off,” he answers. “Don’t worry, I just need some fresh air.”

Ziven snorts with laughter before flopping back down onto his mat. “I’m pretty sure we’ve all had enough fresh air to last us a lifetime, but suit yourself.” 

He closes the door behind him even though he’s pretty sure that he’s going to have company soon. It’s a short walk to the fields and brightly lit from the moon. Not as bright as Lothal’s fields can get but that’s what a world with only one moon is like. He’ll try and not hold that against that planet. At the fields, he leans against the fence with his back to the main house. It’s quiet out here, just as quiet as it was out wandering in the plains surrounding this town. Peaceful as it is, he misses the sounds he’d hear at home. He keeps hoping that a loth-cat will come bounding out of the grass chasing some small critter to have a meal that day. 

This world is just so quiet. Not quite silent, that would be more than troubling, but there have been moments where Ezra felt like he couldn’t hear anything. Now at the edge of town, it’s the loudest it has felt so far. There’s so much life here, almost enough to make him forget that even only a klick away from here that noise will start to die out. 

It’s quiet and he soon hears the sound of feet walk through grass. He sighs. He’s no longer alone. 

“I don’t need company,” he says, not turning to look at Thrawn. 

He doesn’t get a response from the man. Thrawn just comes up next to him, resting his arms on the top of the fence. He doesn’t even get a glance from him. The ex-Imperial just stands there, either wanting Ezra to be the one to start the conversation or wanting to just get some fresh air as well. It’s definitely not the latter. 

“Look, I’m sure you’ve figured out everything that’s happening but that doesn’t mean I want to talk about it,” he states, not sparing a look at Thrawn. _It doesn’t mean I want to talk to you about it._

“On the contrary, I haven’t figured out everything. Very little, in fact. This world is quite the mystery. You, on the other hand, are the one who seems to have made a few realizations today,” Thrawn says. He continues to look out at the field but Ezra knows that he’s very aware of him. “Why do the twins interest you so much?”

“Who says they do?” Ezra replies, knowing Thrawn has already seen through that lie before joining him here. That’s probably why he didn’t bother beating around the bush to ask that question. Sighing, and not bothering to wait to be told to tell the truth, he tries again, “It’s… complicated. I’m not sure I really understand.”

“Tell me what you do understand.”

What does he understand? He understands that these two have a similar connection to the Force as him but it’s different, somehow. He understands that the planet is too quiet but there’s still life here. He understands that they’re here for a reason but he couldn’t even begin to guess as to what the reason could be. He understands that all of this is connected but that he can’t see those connections at all. 

“I don’t know what it means but they’re like me. Well, they have the potential to be like me. Timna and Lilana, their connection to the Force is strong. I haven’t felt anything like it since…” he trails off, the end of the sentence not needing to be voiced between them. They’re both aware of where Ezra was last around Force users (though Thrawn will never really know the extent of that). “It caught me off guard.”

Thrawn nods. “Do you believe they are aware of their power?”

“No,” he says. “No, I don’t think so. But they know that there’s something there now, that’s for sure. I wonder…”

“What?”

“Nothing.” Ezra turns to look up at the house. There’s a light on in one of the second floor windows, the silhouette of someone filling the space. They don’t turn away when he looks up so they either don’t care he’s looking at them or they can’t tell that he is. “It’s nothing.”

“Your doubts will not help us here, Bridger.” 

They stand in silence for a few more minutes before unspokenly deciding to head back to the barn. Ezra isn’t sure when he falls asleep that night, he isn’t sure if Thrawn ever does. He knows that his doubts won’t help him, that they won’t be of any use to any of them. But it’s hard to not have them, even now after everything he’s been through. But that’s just it, after everything he’s been through how can he help but wonder if he’s just ruined Lilana and Timna’s lives by fully opening the door to the Force for them.

✣✣✣

Dropping her shirt on the bed, Lilana stretches her arms up as she walks over to her pile of clothes on her desk chair. She should really stop calling it a desk chair—she never sits at her desk anymore. It has become a clothing dropping spot so she can just roll into bed at night instead of dealing with tidying up after a long day. It annoys her mother (and Timna) to no end but it makes her day’s end simpler. Plus, her pyjamas are always at the top of the pile, easy to locate. She changes into the tank top she’s taken to wearing now in the brutal summer heat when there’s a knock on her door.

“Just a second!” she calls over and rushes through changing completely. The door opens without her permission the moment she ties the drawstring of her pants together. Her brother peeks his head in, grinning. “I said just a second, Timna.”

“I gave you around five, relax.” He comes into the room, shutting the door behind him. Sitting down on the bed, he eyes the chair and its pile before rolling his eyes and tossing her shirt onto it. At least he didn’t come in and start nagging her like he would normally. It’s always the first thing out of his mouth when he comes into her room. “Just let me clean it up for you,” he’d say. Which, she’s now realizing, means this visit is different from when he just wants to spend time with her in the evenings.

Lilana crosses her arms and says, “What’s wrong?”

“Nothing’s wrong,” Timna responds. He looks out at the window, his hand starting to play to the edge of the blanket under him. “It’s just been a weird day. So, I’m coming to hang out; is that really some call for alarm?”

She takes her turn to roll her eyes. Fine, if he’s going to be difficult she’ll just let him. He’ll start talking about what’s on his mind once he’s ready. Though, she never understood why he’d be cagey with her at times; they can always feel what the other is feeling. They know when something is bothering the other. But she’ll let him play his game if it makes him more comfortable. 

On her desk are a few containers, each one filled with water. Each with just enough for the variety of planets living throughout her room. Every evening she waters the ones that need it that night—she used to have to measure the exact amount of water but now she knows by heart how much each container needs so each plant gets what it needs—and checks to make sure that there aren’t any spots appearing or any wilting. She checks in with them to ensure they’re thriving. She knows when a plant is coming to the end of its life, which in her household tends to be longer than the average plant. She knows how to ask it in its own way if there’s anything it needs to thrive. Right now, all her plants seem on edge, as if they can feel her worry from day. From the past few days, really. She looks at her favourite plant, a local wildflower—toohas—that she would find growing in the fields. She brought it inside rather than just treat it like a weed (granted, a lot of the plants in here are what farmers would call weeds). Tonight, her tooha is drooped ever so slightly, just enough for her to notice.

“So, what do you think of these newcomers?” Timna asks, his obviously masked question dragging her attention back to him and away from the greenery around her.

Sighing, she turns to look at him. “You mean,” she says, putting a hand on her hip, “what do I think of what’s-his-name, Ezra?”

Making a face, he leans back on the bed. “So what if I mean him specifically? I also care about your opinion of the rest. Three humans and a chiss? We’ve never even heard of the Chiss from Dad.”

“You can’t really have thought that he had met every single species from the core galaxy. It’s a _galaxy_,” she points out. “But fine, I’ll play along: I think it’s weird that four aliens show up on our world. I think it’s weird that they’re somehow lost in these supposedly ‘Unknown Regions’. I think that while they’re very polite, there’s something really off about that group. It’s like none of them really know each other, like they’re strangers travelling together. And yes, I think there’s a lot going on with that Ezra guy.”

Timna starts to respond so she holds up a hand. “I also think that it’s really none of our business.”

“How can you say that? Don’t you think it’s weird how we can feel him? Like how we feel each other? I get there’s something weird about us but I would always just chalk that up to us being mixed species. Now we know that it’s not just us!” he exclaims. “Lilana, this is huge!”

She shakes her head and sits down on the bed next to him, pulling her legs up to sit cross-legged. She loves her brother dearly but sometimes he gets too excited. Resting a hand on his arm, she squeezes gently and says, “First off, we don’t actually know if he’s like us, we don’t know anything at all. Second, even if he is, that doesn’t mean anything really. He’s come here and he’s going to leave.”

It’s rare for them to disagree. One of them annoyed at the other? That’s normal, but that’s just reaching adulthood and leaving with all of your family under one roof. It gets frustrating but it’s more than manageable. They bicker and argue and purposefully annoy each other but they don’t disagree. Lilana isn’t sure if she cares for this random boy showing up and causing this divide, even if it’s a miniscule one. Who is he to come and overturn everything they thought they knew about themselves?

And it doesn’t help that their mother is also on edge about this whole day. It isn’t that she or their dad are aware that they felt anything special about Ezra, but being lectured for at least half an hour (even if it felt like over an hour) really adds to the worry that all of this is going to go horribly wrong and all because Timna is too inquisitive for his own good. 

Normally, she loves how ready for adventure he can be, even when it interferes with his chores for the day. They’ve had so many adventures in the fields and forest because Timna decided on a whim that day they needed to go hunt giant luuka birds or find some hidden cave he swears he heard about this one time. It made the days of their childhood full and lets them now find the time to just connect with their world around them and each other. It’s led to amazing memories. It’s also causes them more trouble than it’s worth sometimes. Lilana isn’t sure which it’s going to be this time: an adventure or a disaster. She isn’t sure if it’s worth finding out. They’ve only just met Ezra. 

“You’re never up for a good mystery,” Timna mutters, flopping down onto her bed. 

“That’s not true. I’m just saying that all we can do is speculate, which is something you know I don’t care for. We don’t even know if any of what’s going on with Ezra and his group has anything to do with us,” she retorts. “Just because I’m more cautious than you doesn’t mean I don’t like a mystery. I just don’t believe there is one here, necessarily.”

“My point exactly, you’re not up for it. If you were, you’d see there was one.”

Rolling her eyes, she presses her foot against his side and pushes him until he starts to roll. “Look, if you’re just going to basically call me boring, you might as well go. I’m tired and I don’t want to be told off by you after Mom’s lecture.”

“Yeah, yeah, I’m leaving,” he says as he lets her roll him off the bed. He lands on his feet and straightens up. “Do you want to give them a tour of town tomorrow, if Mom and Dad will let us?”

Always to the next day with Timna. Smiling, Lilana nods and gestures for him to leave. 

Once alone in her room again, she gets up, finally going to water her plants. It’s about an hour after she’d normally do so; she knows that it won’t really affect them that much, she just likes the routine of doing it the exact hour every time. She likes routine and Timna is the only one who can get away with disrupting hers. Well, Timna and her parents. 

She’s almost through watering the plants in her window when she notices two people standing at the fields. Her heart stops for a moment before she remembers they have guest and that it’s not strangers coming to ruin the farm. She pauses in her watering to watch the duo: she thinks it’s Ezra and Thrawn. No, she knows that it’s Ezra out there; even at a distance she can feel that it’s him. Thrawn is a guess but the height of the second person out there seems to make it that it can only be him. 

For a brief moment, she wonders what their discussing and doing, she can’t see much movement from up here. Then she pushes that thought out of her head; it doesn’t matter what their doing or not doing. They’re strangers and they’re just passing through. It’s not any of her business. This isn’t going to be some grand adventure that Timna hopes it’s going to be. They’ll come and they’ll go and their lives aren’t going to change for the better or worse because of it. 

This isn’t what she secretly longs for, too.

✣✣✣

The morning felt like it took far longer than it should have to arrive than Thrawn liked. He isn’t one to often allow himself to feel such exaggerated notions about what reality is, but the previous day left even he feeling at odds with the truth of the matter. He doesn’t show it now, obviously, as they all sit and finish eating the breakfast that was brought down to them of cold meats, fruits, and bread. A simple breakfast but far superior to what they had eaten while wandering the fields of Oosrad. It is revitalizing. Not enough to calm his own mind, but it does the job to give him his continued air of composed. He needs to continue to be the assumed leader of their group since no doubt that the others of their group will be dealing with conflicting thoughts and ideals. One of them needs to appear strong to this civilization.

He picks up what he believes to be a berry and studies his companions. Faro is sitting next to him, mostly focused on her meal. Most mornings she would be studying their sole datapad, though not this one. Perhaps it is because there is nothing to study on it now; no reason to look up survival strategies and no means to look into the people they are living with. Or, it could be that she wants to save the battery life it has left. Who knows when they will come across a means of charging it again. She is merely taking this rare moment in all their travelling to just sit and eat, a moment of relaxation before the day truly begins. 

Pic has already finished his food, wandering around the old barn and inspecting all the ill-stored supplies and tools. Fascinating, looking into a world and culture through their tools. A way to see how they view themselves as labourers. Thrawn is curious to the design of the tools himself, though far more intrigued by the idea of returning to the head building of the town and studying the mural in greater detail. He notes, as the ex-stormtrooper moves about the space, how precise his movements are. While he still views the young man as adjusted to this new lifestyle, Pic has yet to shake the movements of a soldier. Anyone could look at him and see a man trained in a military, and most likely do. That will be something for him to work on if he wants to survive throughout this journey. 

There other interesting thing about Pic’s movements is that he’s avoiding Bridger. 

Standing towards the back of the free space in the barn, Bridger is beginning his morning exercises. He is finished meditating for the day (unless things become all too much to bear and he decides to meditate again at night instead of sulking as he did the last night) and thus means moving to limbering up his left arm and shoulder. All from having been shot. Thrawn never saw him truly fight at his full capabilities, neither him or his teacher Kanan Jarrus. He cannot say if the injury from being shot has impeded their Jedi’s ability to fight and he does not believe he’ll ever truly know; Bridger left his lightsaber behind. A useful weapon that they will never benefit from. But the boy can shoot a blaster and has used the occasional staff to fight when necessary. So, it is for the best to exercise the arm every morning and they will all have to hope that the injury never proves to be too much.

He picks up a slice of bread and begins to work on it as Pic settles back down by the food. He reaches to grab another mysterious fruit from the platter and looks around. He tosses the cylindrical food back and forth in his hands as he ponders the obvious question he’s going to pose. “What are we going to do today, exactly? We’ll be able to check out the town, right? We aren’t prisoners,” he says before taking a bite. There’s a look of puzzlement across his face before he shrugs and continues to it. It takes little to phase him, but it never seems to last very long. 

The barn door opens before either he or Faro can answer, though it itself is the answer, no doubt. Sure enough, the twins, Lilana and Timna, come into the barn. The former seemingly more apprehensive, but he cannot tell quite yet. While they are half human, they are half not (he makes a note to ask one of them what they call their people; they have yet to be told). There are social and physical cues and ticks that he cannot interpret until he has spent more time among them and their culture. Is she apprehensive about them or merely because of her brother’s energy? Too many factors that he does not understand. Yet. 

“Great, you guys are finishing up,” Timna says, the accent his mother has when she speaks Basic is faint but there in his—and his sister’s—voice. He makes his way over to the three of them sitting down and more or less flops down with them. Lilana hesitates just slightly before moving to sit in the circle, as well. “Ezra, get over here.”

Thrawn turns his head to watch the Jedi. He finishes the push-up he was doing and rolls up through his back to standing. As he walks towards the group, Thrawn turns his attention back to the circle they are sitting in. Timna is staring at the food in front of him. Curious, as he would have no doubt had a better meal in the house than what they were provided here. He stores this observation away once they are all seated and focuses on the immediate now. “I assume,” he says, folding his hands in his lap, “that you are both here to tell us what plans you have for us today. Is that correct?”

Shrugging, Timna grabs an untouched fruit from the plate, one that they deemed less than stellar in taste, and turns it around in his hands. “Dad said we could take you all through the town, show you where you’re going to be staying for the time being. That way you’re all familiar with this place and everyone gets used to seeing you around.”

“It’s that or you all stay here on the farm all day,” Lilana adds on.

“Please pick going into town, it means we get to go,” he says, directing this mostly at Thrawn. 

Well, it seems that for now, he is being viewed as the leader. While that is beneficial, it will be intriguing to watch how long Bridger will tolerate this, if at all. Sometimes he has played along and let strangers go about their assumptions. Other times, he makes it blatantly clear that the first assessment was incorrect. 

Pic cuts through his thoughts, answering for the group, “We would love a tour of your town. We were just talking about doing that.” 

Shooting him a glare, Faro stands and walks over to her pack. It’s now becoming clear to him that she may not be as comfortable with their current situation, wary of these strangers’ kindness. Good, it will keep her aware and focused which in turn will be integral to ensure they survive through what is to come. 

Timna pays no mind to this, tossing the fruit high in the air and catching it enthusiastically. “Fantastic. We can head out now, might as well get started,” he says, before taking a bite of the fruit. He doesn’t finish chewing before he starts up again. “There’s not that much in town but it could still take us the better part of the day if you want to see everything, even then we probably should space it out between a couple of days, so you know, you can really appreciate it—”

“We’ll meet you outside,” Lilana says, cutting her brother off. “Take your time.” 

Thrawn watches them leave, his eyebrows raised ever so slightly. It is only after she drags her brother out of the barn that Bridger makes a response to the whole situation. “I think this is going to be a fun day,” he says, standing up. 

“Do you?” Thrawn asks. He follows suit, watching Faro sigh and close up her pack. She makes no move to place it on her back. Maybe she was just trying to get away from Pic when he was being his usual self versus her being uncomfortable with the twins. He was aware that of all the people to have joined them, Pic is high on the list of those she would not want around all of the time. Bridger only outranks him because he came in as the enemy. He still is the enemy to her. “And why is that?”

Bridger just shrugs and laughs under his breath. “It just is. Can’t you feel it?”

Shaking his head, Thrawn moves to gather what he believes he’ll need for the day. He leaves his blaster behind, instructing the others to do so as well. Faro looks like she wants to argue, but thinks better of it. There’s no need for their weapons here, not if they want to be sure that they will be allowed to stay as long as they need to. They cannot be viewed as a threat at all. 

He wonders which of them could possibly be the first to step over that line. 

“Let’s go,” Bridger says, opening the barn door. 

The walk back into the town is far more enlightening than the one to the farm last night. In the daylight, Thrawn can see just how these people choose to live their lives. How their homes are constructed, how the roads weave around the buildings. Each building—all following the same style of curved architecture the Nim household has—is unique in colour and finished look. Varying number of stories. Varying shades of blue or green or purple decorating the outside walls. There are designs carved into the walls, though without moving in closer he will not be able to tell what they mean. He hopes he will have the chance to study these. For now it will be just hope. 

The roads are one of the more interesting aspects of the town. It is clear that the homes and buildings were built first. The roads curve and weave far too organically to have been planned in advance of the town’s construction. The town is a timeline to walk through, the outer rim of it the newest and each building moving inwards is older than the one before. No doubt that the heart of the town, the head building, is one of the oldest buildings in the area. 

A few locals stop their morning tasks to watch the group travel along the road. Timna is in the lead, walking between Thrawn and Bridger, point out what he deems are key locations to be aware of and what their brief histories are. He always has some sort of personal anecdote to add on. Bridger seems to be captivated, hanging onto every story being shared. Pic and Faro are close behind, listening to what’s being told while occasionally breaking off into their own hushed conversations. Lilana is bringing up the rear, her shoulders hunched evers so slightly. 

“It can get a little dull here, if I’m being honest,” Timna says. He smiles as he talks. Every word he says is filled with a deep admiration for his home. “But it is a great place to live. We’ve been to a couple of the nearby towns and one of the cities. Wouldn’t give up anything here to live somewhere bigger.”

Bridger’s smile changes, not leaving his face but the ease he held briefly is now gone. “I get that. There’s nothing like the place you grew up.”

“Exactly! You get to know it too well, sure, but that’s part of what’s so great about it. And the people you get to know. I know everyone, I know how all our lives are intertwined together. Like over there, that’s Oo’klee’lam. She’s friends with my mom, they were students together until Mom started working on the farm full time. They still spend dinner together at least once a week. Until Lilana and I were sixteen, she’d give us sweets every time we saw her. She runs the forge with her husband,” Timna says. He waves at the woman when she smiles in their direction. Her eyes glance over the rest of the group but it is clear her focus is on their guide. “You can’t replace the people who raise you, the community that raises you.”

“No,” Bridger responds, his smile finally leaving. “No, you can’t. They’re what makes a world special.” He glances over at Thrawn. It is filled with the resentment he carried the days and weeks after their departure from Lothal. It is good to know where they stand with each other, even now. They maybe be allies but even a Jedi seems to not be able to forget the past.

Waving to the woman who had been pointed out to them, Lilana comes up between Timna and Bridger. “Is there anywhere you guys would like to visit in particular? As great as wandering is, we can just go to places that are a bit more of a specific interest to you.” 

“What do you guys have?” Pic calls up. 

“There’s the L’uunaal, which I guess would translate to head building in Basic. Various artisans we could check out. Other farms. Oh, and there’s the cantina. It’s the main gathering place for everyone in town, so we can guarantee something interesting will be happening there,” she says. 

They move around a turquoise building with a pair of children chattering away on the porch. They stop as they pass by, mesmerized by the strangers. 

“Do you have any temples or places of worship within town?” Thrawn asks. He feels Bridger gaze snapping towards him. “Any religious buildings?”

Shaking his head, Timna answers, “No, none in town. And none that are used, anymore. There’s one that’s nearby, in the hills. It’s been abandoned for centuries and in complete ruin. There’s a larger one off in the forest, it’s in a lot better shape but no one goes there anymore. It’s hasn’t been a part of this community for two or three centuries. I think.”

“Then, may I request we go to the L’uunaal?” he asks. He does not dwell on the first question because he is not ready to reveal to Bridger, or the others, why he has an interest in it. Too early still to play his cards, if he even has any cards to play. Too early for Bridger to realize that he’d benefit from said cards. 

Lilana nods and drops back to walk with Faro and Pic. 

While Timna returns to explaining every building they base on their way to the L’uunaal, Thrawn meets Bridger’s gaze. It is inquisitive, trying to piece together a man he has done everything to avoid understanding. The resentment is gone, for now. His eyes just hold questions. 

Questions that they both share and will no doubt receive answers to, all in due time.

✣✣✣

The head building, town hall, the… what was it that the twin’s called it? The L’uunaal, is an old building. They could see that last night but now it’s beyond evident. Ziven leans against the doorway, looking into the building, as Thrawn, Ezra, and Faro make their way around the open room. Better lit now and way emptier, so it’s easier to see the mural filling the room. He has no idea how old these people are and how long they’ve been adding to the mural, but there’s at least a fourth left of the wall to filling in. He guesses it’s their people’s history, it’s the only thing that makes sense. What are they going to do when they run out of space? Paint over the beginning? Build a new L’uunaal? He guesses that there’s a fulfillment they get from physically painting out this stuff, but data can hold history forever and at any amount. There’s no worry there, you’ve got the space for the past and future.

“You can see when Dad got here,” Timna says, pointing to the wall. Thrawn is the first to move to join him. They’re almost at the end of the painting, which makes sense given the age of the twins. “Just there. I know that Lilana and I are on here, but I can never find us.” Ezra is standing with them now, bending down to look at some details more closely. 

Ziven closes his eyes and leans his head back. It’s an impressive building, room, whatever. The art filling it is stunning. He gets all of that stuff, he just has no interest in it. Of course he’s heard of how Thrawn can take down a fleet single-handedly by looking at a painting or listening to a piece of music or reading poetry or whatever. Supposedly that’s what happened before they had returned to Lothal that final time. That’s what they were told, he isn’t totally sure he believes it. The one time he asked Faro about it she just shook her head and told him it’s far more complicated than that. It didn’t matter, not to him. So what if Thrawn could or couldn’t stop an enemy with a single picture, Ziven still doesn’t care to understand why a certain colour was picked. He also doesn’t need to spend the day in a stuffy old room looking at walls.

Laughter next to him does catch his interest, however. Opening his eyes, he sees a group of three locals, probably around the same age as the twins (give or take a year), strutting into the head building. 

“Ah, Aa’timna’nim, Oo’lilana’nim,” the obvious leader of the trio, a dark green skinned woman, says. The rest is lost on Ziven. The names here are easy enough to pick out in their strange language, the rest just sounds like nonsense. Though, he supposed Basic must sound the same to them. 

Timna stiffly walks over, and gives a hushed reply. There’s no reason to, only his sister and the group can understand what’s being said. But Ziven remembers the days in the Imperial Academy and what bullying (or character building, as his instructors called) looks like. Guess that doesn’t change wherever you are in the galaxy. 

It always made him uncomfortable, how the other boys—and then the other men since they were told constantly that they were in fact men, men who needed to be ready to give their lives to the Empire—would bully each other. That’s what it was. Nothing more, nothing less. The hazing, the competition, the cruelty. All of it there to make them bullies. This isn’t the first time he was reminded of this fact, and it certainly won’t be the last. He never wanted to become a person who terrorized those weaker than him, he wanted to be a stormtrooper to protect the lives of Imperial citizens. But then that became the want of protecting human Imperial citizens. And then when he was placed under Thrawn’s command, he realized that he was just a bully, terrorizing anyone who’d look at him. Change started under Thrawn, it accelerated because of Ezra.

The trio all laugh, turning away from Timna, whose face is flushing a very dark green. Probably from a mix of embarrassment and anger. One of them calls out to Lilana, smirking as he does so, who simply makes a gesture with her hand. He makes a different gesture back and her complexion rapidly matches her brother’s. The large room is quiet once it’s just the six of them again. 

It’s Lilana who breaks the silence. “Some schoolmates of ours. Always nice to catch up,” she says. She crosses her arms, her gaze cast downward. 

“Yeah, that definitely looked like catching up,” Ziven says. He pushes off of the doorframe and moves to stand next to Timna. “What were they saying?”

Timna shrugs and runs a hand through his hair. “Just some questions about all of you. Nothing important,” he answers. “Come on, I know somewhere that’ll be fun for you guys to see. It’s a bit of a walk, but trust me, it’s worth it.” And with that, he leaves the L’uunaal. Ezra glances over at Ziven as he passes and smiles weakly. 

Waiting outside for him is Faro, the other four are walking together a few feet ahead now. 

They don’t say anything to each other as they follow. What can they say? What can he say? He might hate it when those with power go after they deem weaker for no reason, but that was his entire military career. That’s what they all did on Lothal. A planet and a people that just wanted to live freely and they stripped it of life. How can he let himself feel for the twins and be mad about whatever was said to them when he’s worse than their bullies? 

“Stop it,” Faro says as they’re all led out of town. In the distance they can see another farm, though already the differences between the Nim farm and this are evident. A lot more fencing surrounds this property. “Whatever you’re thinking, it’s not worth you stressing over.”

“You don’t know what I’m thinking,” he states.

“I do.” She looks over at him and shakes her head. “You’re having the doubt every young Imperial soldier has at some point. ‘Is what I’m doing right?’ Well, it doesn’t matter because we are no longer a part of the Empire. Your actions there are of the past.”

“Yeah, I don’t know if that’s entirely true, Faro.”

Faro sighs and says,“People are people, no matter the species. There will always be those who deem themselves better, those that believe that they truly are. Let it go, you can’t beat yourself up over what happened back there. Or your own actions as a stormtrooper. You did what you had to do, you’ll do that now.”

He doesn’t respond to that. 

For now, the thoughts and worries do leave his head. Not permanently as Faro is advising, but enough for him to enjoy the farm in front of them now.

“This farm belongs to Aa’meena’lum. Best yrni farmer in the region, probably the whole planet!” Timna exclaims. Any hurt that he was feeling seems to be gone now. He must be used to whatever his “friends” said to him. Now the bounce is back in his voice. “They’re mighty friendly, too. See, they’ve already decided that Ezra is great.”

Ziven looks over to watch the cattle-like animals, which were not nearly was fluffy as nerf but there was some resemble between the two species, start to crowd at the fence where Ezra parked himself. Timna laughs and lightly punches Ezra’s arm. “Maybe if you guys get stuck here for good, Aa’meena’lum could hire you. He’s always looking for extra hands around the farm.”

Wandering further down the fence, watching as more and more yrni make their way towards Ezra and Timna, Ziven frowns. Right, Ezra isn’t like them. It’s easy to forget sometimes, he’s generally chatty and warm and people always seem to be drawn to him, though it never feels weird. It’s when he shows that he carries a burden that they’re all normally reminded of his lifestyle and capabilities. These animals flocking him is new. To all of them in the group (unless you’re counting the purrgil over Lothal, but he wasn’t on the bridge for that), this is the first they’re seeing aspects of his Jedi powers coming out so naturally and positively. 

He leans the fence once he’s out of earshot of the others. Thrawn and Faro have wandered down the other way with Lilana, no doubt listening to her telling of the farm. Thrawn keeps looking back at Ezra.

And Ezra? He’s sharing his first completely genuine and easy smile in months.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> I post updates and snippets for upcoming chapters on [my tumblr](http://herasyndlla.tumblr.com/tagged/natww-tag).


	4. Waiting For What's Next

It’s a little surprising how quickly he’s adjusted to having these four bizarre yet exciting and enticing strangers in his life. Timna loves the life he’s lived in Esdia, loves the people here, but he never knew just how desperate his was for adventure and change. He longed for it, even his parents know this about him. He’s the boy with his head in the clouds, his mind wandering off into the constellations that fill their night sky. He led all the kids of their town on wild adventures through the surrounding fields and even into the forest. He found battles to fight and victims to save when no one else was looking (fighting the so called rock giants that were just boulders and saving a random log that appeared outside the forest). He made adventure when there was none to be discovered. 

And maybe that’s why it’s so surprising. He didn’t create this mystery, he didn’t even go out to find it. This four people merely stumbled into his life. 

It’s dinner now. The eight of them have settled into something like a routine, even if it’s only the third night they’ve all been together. The newcomers eat dinner in the house after a full day of being shown the town and meeting as many townsfolk as possible in that set timeframe. By now, everyone should have met the travellers. At least, those who want to meet them. They’re actually running out of things to do in the town and surrounding lands. What will happen once there’s nothing new to show them? Will they leave? Find a different town with more interesting people and activities? Timna feels his chest tighten at the thought of all of them leaving, especially—

“Timna, could you pass… whatever that is? I forgot the name,” Ezra says, pointing towards a large bowl. It’s a mix of meat and fruit—yrni meat and rool berries—and seasoned to perfection with some of the best spices Oosrad has to offer. Ezra’s hand brushes against Timna’s shoulder as he brings his reach back.

“Oh, sure. And it’s called niaar,” Timna replies. He grabs the bowl and dishes out a healthy serving of it onto Ezra’s plate. It’s one of his favourite dishes, and if he’s being honest, he’s thrilled that Ezra seems to like it this much. 

“Right, niaar. I’ll try to remember that.”

After putting some more on his plate as well, he looks around the table. Thrawn is engaged in a conversation with his father, his mother is talking to both Ziven and Faro. Lilana, however, is just watching him. He mouths the word “what” to her and she just rolls her eyes before turning her attention to the other conversations in the room. 

She thinks she knows him so well, doesn’t she? Of course, she does, ultimately, but sometimes even she can jump to conclusions. Or just make assumptions. She gave him a look when they all sat down for dinner because he elected to sit with Ezra for the third night in a row. She thinks it’s because he’s looking into the weird connection they both feel with him. Which, sure, is probably a part of it, but maybe he just liked the boy’s company. Maybe it’s just nice to meet someone their age who shares their father’s heritage (somewhat, at least, it sounds as though there are a ton of humans in the galaxy’s core, but to him they all seem very similar at a surface glance). 

It doesn’t matter, not really. Lilana can think what she wants to think, and he will continue to do what he wants to do about Ezra. Which is merely to eat dinner next to him and talk. Really, what’s the harm in that?

There’s a deep sigh across the table. Timna and Ezra both look up, the former’s mouth completely full, and see Kell leaning back in his chair, rubbing his eyes. 

“It’s going to take longer than you were probably hoping for, I’m sorry to say,” Kell says. He looks over to Thrawn and frowns. “I’m not really sure what you hope we’ll be able to do.”

Frowning in response, Thrawn leans forward, resting his elbows on the table. “May I ask the reason for this pessimism?”

Oo’trileh’nim is the one who answers, “Our people do not have the means for such repairs. My husband was the last person to bring a ship to our region of the planet, perhaps even the whole world. Even if the pieces you need are here on the planet, it will at least be a week, though more likely two or three, to get them here to Esdia. We do not travel the stars.”

“Why’s that?” Ziven asks. He pops a rool berry into his mouth, wincing slightly at its tartness. Swallowing it quickly, and relaxing his scrunched up face, he continues, “I mean, you guys seem to have the means to mentally, not to sound rude. Why not travel the stars? It opens up resources to you, allies. I’d argue that the majority of the galaxy does it.”

Faro sighs, dropping her head into a hand. Timna glances at Ezra to get a reading on him. Everyone in this quartet still seems to be at odds with each other. Mixed reactions at Ziven’s poorly thought out wording, but overall unimpressed. Ezra seems almost disappointed. Timna makes a note to try and figure out what is going on, still confused by what the relationship between these people is. 

“It only brings trouble to a world, inviting outsiders in all of the time. I have heard the stories of your galaxy from my husband, why would we want that for our world?” Oo’trileh’nim says. 

Smiling, Kell leans across the table, placing a hand on hers. “I was all the trouble this world needed, anyway.” 

Timna groans as Lilana drops her head into a hand and blushing ever so slightly. Of course he’s going to say that now, finally new people to hear his terrible lines and embarrassing stories. This is the best reason for no more newcomers, their dad can’t embarrass them even more than he does normally. At least it seems to have broken the tension Ziven caused by his comment. 

“So, why did you stay?” Ezra asks, continuing the steering away from Ziven’s comment. 

“Well, the easiest answer would be my ship was definitely not going to fly again. I also didn’t have the smoothest of landing. I’m sure I could have found a way to leave but,” Kell answers, looking between each member of his family, “I had a feeling that I belonged here. Like I was meant to make a life with these people. Well, one in particular.” He squeezes Oo’trileh’nim’s hand again. “Turns out I was right.” 

Blushing, Timna forks some of his niaar into his mouth. It’s weird hearing his father talk like this about staying. Obviously, his father had to stay for him and Lilana to be born. That was a decision he had to make. But hearing that it was a feeling… was it like the feelings he gets? That Lilana gets? 

He looks over to Ezra, since he asked why stay. He wasn’t sure what he was looking to him for, maybe just to see if he got embarrassed by his parents’ romance like he does, but that isn’t what he sees. Ezra is looking down at his plate, pushing his food around it. He nods but doesn’t add anything more, no follow up questions. There’s a silence taking over the table. 

Just another mystery to add to this strange boy. Why is this affecting him so much? 

“Well, enough of that,” Timna says, placing his own fork down. The slight clatter of metal on the plate vibrates through the room, breaking any tension holding on. “What’s the plan for tomorrow? I don’t actually know what else we can show you at this point.”

“The market is here tomorrow, isn’t it?” Lilana says. She flashes a smile at him before continuing, “We can go to that. I know you all don’t have any of our money, but it’ll be fun for you to see that. Merchants and visitors from all over the region come here to sell and buy.” 

“Sounds fun,” Ziven says. He leans back in his chair and pushes his plate away just a bit. “I have to say, this is a great town. A surprising amount of things to do.”

“They’re milking everything out of this town, just wait,” Kell interjects. “You’ll realize soon we all live in a routine just like everyone else in the galaxy once you’ve been here long enough to not be shaking things up as much.” He laughs when Oo’trileh’him takes her hand back and gently shoves his shoulder. Lilana smiles at their parents. 

Timna just hears a tiny voice in his head saying that these travellers won’t be here long enough for that.

✣✣✣

There’s no porthole in this cabin. Ezra isn’t sure if any of the cabins on the Star Destroyer has a porthole. Maybe Thrawn’s has one. He’s obviously going to have the nicest cabin in the whole ship. But that leaves Ezra with nothing but the cold and uniform walls of an Imperial-made room and it’s draining. There’s no personality in here, no life. It makes him actually miss that ridiculous painting of him and Zeb in their cabin back on the _Ghost_. Their old cabin, now just Zeb’s. This is where he’s going to be living for the foreseeable future. Great.

“Maybe there’s paint somewhere on this ship, I could trick a trooper into bringing me some,” Ezra mutters to himself, waving his hand out in front of him. He leans back in the desk chair and stares up at the ceiling. “Brighten things up. Remind Thrawn and all of them that we aren’t near the Empire and all its rules.” 

That would be fun. Annoy the officer who is most definitely annoyed from having to give up his cabin for the rebel Jedi onboard even more. (Ezra assumes this wasn’t a vacant room previous, it’s far too close to the higher ups on the ship to have been.)

The artificial days are long on this ship. Ezra still isn’t used to the standard day verses a day on Lothal. A smaller planet, so shorter rotation. It isn’t that he doesn’t wake up in the morning or wakes up too early, he’s adjusted to the time difference; there’s just more of the day to fill now. And he gets to fill it with nothing. Thrawn keeps him locked away in this cabin, rarely visiting himself. And now that he trusts that Ezra isn’t going to try anything, the stormtroopers that had been previously stationed on the inside of his cabin have been removed. He has nothing to entertain himself with. He’s told he isn’t a prisoner but it’s certainly easy to argue he is one. 

“One in all but name.”

Standing up, he stretches up his good arm and barely wincing now as his injured shoulder protests. It’s almost mended, though the medical droid insists he still wear the sling another week. It’ll supposedly always be a bit stiffer but he shouldn’t ever notice too much of a difference. He’s told it was lucky that he got medical attention as fast as he did. 

The doors slide open behind him. Turning to look, he sees Thrawn enter, accompanied by Commodore Faro. She makes an appearance around here even less than Thrawn, and it’s even rarer for her to actually come into the room. They had only been introduced to each other official a handful of almost endless days ago. 

“Have a seat, Bridger,” Thrawn says the moment the hatchway is closed. He gestures to the bed against the wall and he makes his way to the chair. Faro stays near the door, as if to blend in with the walls. Maybe she was just forced to join him because they have some other more important meeting to get to and Thrawn is ever so efficient. Whatever the case is, Ezra makes his way to the bed and sits. He’s too tired to be difficult. “How is your arm healing?”

“It’s fine, should be able to move it freely soon. Why aren’t you just asking the medical droid this?” Ezra retorts. 

He shifts in his seat, leaning forwards and resting his elbows on his knees. “Because I am being polite. You are a guest here, Bridger, whether or not you choose to view it that way. I will repeat it again; you are not our prisoner. I hope you will become our ally.”

Ezra laughs, he can’t help himself. He ignores the part of his brain that tells him that this why he’s come to be here. He ignores the feeling inside him, the Force inside him, confirming this. He just laughs. “Right, be your ally. You still haven’t given me a good reason to be that, Thrawn.”

He isn’t given a response to that, though he can see from the corner of his eye Faro tensing. Didn’t she know that he and Thrawn don’t exactly have the most pleasant conversations? Never a full out argument, but civility leaves him pretty quickly when he’s forced into this situation. 

“I’ve already told you, I don’t know where we are and I don’t know how to get back. All I did was ask the purrgil to take us as far away from the Core Galaxy as they could. This is where I planned for us to be. I don’t have anything more,” Ezra says. He crosses his arms and glares at the man he views as his captor. Though, if he were calmer, maybe he’d view himself as the captor (the thought did cross his mind when falling asleep a few nights previously). 

“You know this means you won’t ever return as well, you’re stranded here just like us,” Faro interjects. He glances over at her and finds that she has moved away from the wall. The little he knows about her is that she’s composed and good at her job; she has to be if she works closely with Thrawn. But now he’s seeing a spark in her, a sign that perhaps Thrawn isn’t in control of her and that she chooses to follow. Which means she can choose not to, as well. 

She deserves the truth.

“I knew that,” he says, meeting her eye.

“You knew… How dare you! Do you know how selfish that was? You’ve stranded tens of thousands of people, good people, who were just following orders and for what, revenge? How can you just sit there and—”

“Quiet, Faro.”

Ezra looks over to Thrawn. The grand admiral isn’t look over at her, his gaze still fixed on him. Completely calm. The Thrawn that Ezra had grown to fear before their final showdown (if one can really call it that). 

“But, sir, he—”

“Faro, I said to be quiet. Do not make me repeat myself again,” Thrawn says, cutting her off a second time. “Bridger did what he had to do to protect his home. I would have done anything as well to ensure the protection of the Empire if it were to have come to a similar fate. Every officer and soldier on these ships knew the risks when they enlisted to protect the Empire. They knew they may never return home. At least Bridger’s method allows them to live and to try to return.” All of this is said without him turning to look at his subordinate. Ezra shifts, uncomfortable with the tension between the two Imperials. 

Thrawn stands, gesturing to the door. Silently, Faro makes her way to it. 

“And rest assured, Bridger. We will try. Without or without your aid.”

It’s when Thrawn is at the door, about to step out when Ezra responds, “Either we do it or not. I don’t think there’s going to be an in between option for any of us.” 

He’s offered a stern look before the man leaves the room.

And, with that, he’s alone in what has become a prison cell.

In all but name.

✣✣✣

She isn’t sure what is more tedious about this day: that they are all thinking about the fact they are genuinely stranded here, that they are at the market the twins mentioned at dinner last night, or that Lilana is prying. Faro looks around the market they’re being led through, not letting her eyes really focus on anything. There isn’t really anything to capture her interest; she’s been to a market in a small town on a small planet before. Just because she’s nowhere near the worlds she knows doesn’t make it any more unique.

“So, how long have the four of you been travelling together, anyway?” Lilana asks.

Faro just wishes that Thrawn would have joined her on this outing and not leave her to the onslaught of questions from the girl. 

They’ve split into three groups to explore the market, Bridger going off with Timna while Thrawn silently elected to keep a watchful eye on Pic. While she believes that Bridger is more of a danger, Pic continues to prove that he isn’t at all diplomatic so Thrawn is at least keeping that in check. She wishes she had thought to volunteer, she doesn’t mind Pic’s company, even if he talks too much. He at least still respects her. The twins, however, view themselves as in charge in these outings. They keep the group safe, sure, but they use this status they’ve claimed to pry. 

Bridger doesn’t seem to mind and Thrawn can deflect the questions with ease. Pic will answer too much. She just gets tired of it immediately. 

“A while,” Faro answers.

“A year? A month?”

“I don’t see how the exact amount of time matters.”

Lilana shrugs and looks around the market. Her eyes light up at everything she sees. She doesn’t know how repeated this way of life is across the galaxy. Just another case of some backwater nobody believe their world matters.

“Okay, what about Ezra, then? He seems like he’s the odd one out. Why he’s travelling with you?” This question is offered as if it was easier to answer. 

“I know we’ve only been with you all a short time, but I took your brother as the more inquisitive of the two of you,” Faro says. “I guess I was wrong.”

“I can be inquisitive.”

“Clearly.”

“You haven’t answered my questions, though,” she says. “You keep deflecting them. You’re a lot like Thrawn, that way. Dad says he’s often left wondering more by the end of a conversation with him.”

They stop in front of a stall filled with different coloured beads. Lilana starts to pick up beads, examining each of them carefully. Each held like a precious gem worth the time and thought she’s giving them. The man at the stall smiles down at the girl and strikes up a conversation in their native tongue. Faro notices when his eyes land on her but she doesn’t care. Let him wonder about her, about them all. It is not her place to reveal the secrets of her team and of Bridger. No amount of prodding will result in that information being made available. 

It is good that Thrawn is with Pic.

“What’s something you can tell me?”

Faro picks up a bead, holding it up to the sun to see the light come through. “I could tell you anything, I’m just choosing to be respectful of my group and not share all of our secrets with strangers.” She looks down at her tour guide and sighs. “We’ve been through a lot, it’s not easy to share and for now I believe it’s best we keep it all behind us. Should the others choose differently, that’s on them. I choose to keep it where it is.”

Lilana frowns and looks back at all the beads. “Fine, I’ll stop asking. But you can’t blame me for wondering who the people we’re staying with are.” 

Smiling faintly at her, Faro places the bead back with the others. She can tell from the girl’s tone of voice that what she means is that she’s done asking the wrong person for answers. Faro makes a note to herself to stick close to Pic over the next few days until Thrawn is decided how much they can reveal. 

“Can you draw?” Timna’s voice carries over to them. 

They turn to see Timna and Bridger at the stall directly behind them. It’s filled with leather-bound journals, or perhaps sketchbooks, and utensils to write and draw with. Now, Faro is impressed. Paper and flimsi are so rare in their worlds now, she is always amazed to see it pop up. Finally, something interesting. She makes her way over to the duo, picking up a journal to feel the weight of it. Her datapad is so much lighter, and can hold so much more information. But this never runs out of battery, which is a current problem they’re facing with their device. 

“I guess,” Bridger answers. He looks over at her as she puts the journal back on top of the rest. She nods at him, a polite one to just let him know she’s aware of him. He then shrugs and looks back at Timna. “I used to draw a lot before… well, when I was young. Younger than now, before I left home. But then I was busy and sort of fell out of the habit. I had other stuff to occupy my time.”

Faro feels her mouth tighten at his words. Young. As if he isn’t incredibly young now. Young, naive, and destructive. Every time she begins to think she’ll be able to tolerate him, maybe even one day learn to trust him, she’s reminded of how thoroughly and frustratingly they were defeated by a child. It’s just unforgivable what he did. What he forced them into. By a child. 

“You should get into it again, you’ll have a ton of time while you’re here,” Timna says, smiling at him. 

Bridger laughs. “I’d love to, but I don’t have the supplies. And I have no money.” He smiles at the vendor and places the empty book down. He starts to move away when Timna pulls out a pouch. 

“I’ll get it for you, it can be a thank you present for making something interesting finally happen here.” Timna grins and then switches over to the other language. 

It’s a quick transaction, Faro thinks that maybe some haggling happened. The nature of markets like this. She never had a taste for it. When Timna hands the new sketchbook over to Bridger, she feels a presence settle in next to her.

“Sir.”

“Was your time here today useful?” Thrawn asks her.

She shrugs, crossing her arms. She watches the boys smiling at each other, Bridger thanking their oh so generous host. Was it useful? Perhaps. She knows now that both of then twins are incredibly trusting, ready to pry into strangers’ lives, and kind. All of which are tools they can choose to use if needed. But has she learned anything useful that Thrawn hasn’t already pieced together. Probably not. 

“It wasn’t eye opening, if that’s what you’re wondering,” she responds. He hums his acknowledgement but offers no further response. Faro glances up at him and finds that his attention is elsewhere. His focus was never on her. Bridger, as always it seems, it at the centre of his thoughts. 

The walk about to the Nim household is only filled by Ziven rambling on about the market and what he saw there.

✣✣✣

“Don’t stay out too late,” his mother calls after him as he shuts the door. It’s cooler this evening, or at least, it’s cooler outside. It’s gotten warmer in the house now with four extra bodies warming it throughout the evenings. It doesn’t matter to Timna that he spent all day walking, he just needs to get out of the stifling air that filled his home. And to get away from the watchful eye of every adult around him. A walk around the property should give him the time he needs to cool down and for his parents to head to bed. And for the strangers to clear out.

He still is thrilled by their company, don’t get him wrong, it’s just that when they’re around his mother gets on edge and far too protective. That’s when she gets over bearing with Lilana and him. That’s when he needs to escape and hide. 

He gets to the start of the fencing around their first field and stops, looking out at the land his family has always owned and he has always known. There’s a gentle breeze passing through, welcomed after days and days of stillness and heat. No clouds in the sky, he takes a moment to wonder where the clouds they saw a few days ago went. Normally that would bother him but right now he’s grateful to be able to see the stars blinking into existence. In an hour or so the constellations he grew up staring at will appear; as well as the ones he invented himself. This is the kind of night he longs for. He just wishes that he could enjoy it fully. This walk might just be a plan to hide away but now he’s glad to be stretching his legs again and getting some time to himself. To think. To figure out how he really feels about everything that’s happened this week. Just a moment a lot to centre himself. 

“You aren’t staying out too long, are you? Mom will get annoyed at me for not making you come in sooner, you know she will.”

Timna drops his head, sighing. Of course she’s here. Can’t get a single moment alone on this farm. 

“No, Lilana, I’m not going to stay out late. I’m just going for a short walk, I just want to avoid Mom and Dad,” he answers his sister. “I haven’t even been out that long.”

“Longer than you think.”

She walks up next to him, leaning against the fence. She faces away from the field, her gaze outward, maybe towards the occupied barn. She has a scarf wrapped around her, loosely draped over the top of her head. A bit too chilly for no hair at all, Timna guesses. He wouldn’t know, he hasn’t ever shaved his head since his hair grew in. Lilana only started shaving hers just over a year ago, finding security in this small way to look more like their people.

“Did Mom send you out here?”

Shaking her head she looks over to him. “We haven’t talked much this week, have we?”

“What are you talking about, we’ve talked to each other every day,” he answers. 

“I mean actually talk to each other. Not since they all got here. We’ve been too busy showing them around and listening to our parents discuss this whole thing. We’re too tired at the end of the day and we just…” Lilana trails off. “It’s not like I feel we’re growing apart but it’s weird that we haven’t been checking in with each other with all of this happening.”

“Hey, hey…” Timna turns to her, wrapping an arm around her shoulders. “It’s been a lot and yeah, I’ve been a bit more focused on our guests, but you can always come talk to me. You know that.”

Lilana nods. She looks out over their property before quickly looking to her right. She nudges his side and points off to where she’s looking. Timna leans around her and over to fence. He almost asks what she’s going on about when he sees; Ezra is sitting a good ways down on the fence. 

“He’s by himself every evening, have you noticed that?” Timna asks, straightening up. 

“Sure, why does it matter?” 

“Come on, I know you’re wondering about all of them. Why they’re all… like how they are.”

She laughs, though he notes that she’s still focused on Ezra. She hasn’t turned to look at him again. “Of course they’re weird to us, they aren’t from here. Maybe that’s just how humans and Chiss act.”

“You know you’re just coming up with that right now. You don’t actually believe that. I know you were questioning Faro at the market today, don’t act all high and mighty with me,” he says. 

Finally looking back at him, she rolls her eyes. “Fine, yes. Ezra feels like he’s the odd one out of that group but why does it matter? None of them are willing to tell us anything. We aren’t going to fix that group dynamic for him.”

“You’re heartless, Lilana.” Timna shakes his head and pats her on the shoulder. Laughing, she shoves his shoulder, hard, and almost sends him tumbling to the ground. “Lilana!” He quickly steadies himself on his feet again and moves to shove her right back but stops himself. She’s waving in Ezra’s direction. Looking past her, he can see that their guest is waving back. 

“Let’s go say hi,” she says. 

He isn’t even given the chance to answer before she’s making her way down the fence. All he can do is job to catch up with her. They take their time, no need to rush when it’s obvious that Ezra isn’t going anywhere. It’s weird to think they’re going to spend time alone with him; he’s usually with his group or they can’t get away from their family. Timna shoves his hands into his pockets to hide how sweaty they’ve suddenly gotten. His sister doesn’t need to know that he’s nervous, mostly because he doesn’t understand why he is. 

“What are you doing out here, Ezra?” Lilana asks with a smile when they’re standing in front of him. 

Staying up on the fence, Ezra lifts up the sketchbook that he was bought today. “Figured I’d start tonight, since you were nice enough to buy it for me. Your dad gave me some charcoal to work with.”

“Oh,” Timna says. He smiles, maybe a bit forcefully because his heart has started working double time and he really just wants to turn around to go back to the house. Instead, he hears himself asking, “What are you drawing?”

Ezra hands over the sketchbook, keeping his thumb in place as a bookmark. Timna takes it and holds it open for him and his sister to look. There are three rough and messy sketches on the two pages. There’s one of each of them and then one of a yrni. Given that Ezra says he hasn’t drawn in years, Timna is impressed by the drawings. They look like what they’re of, and that’s more than anything he could ever hope to draw. 

“These are great,” Lilana says. She pokes Timna’s hand and he offers the sketchbook back. “Hard to believe you haven’t been keeping up with drawing, you’re really good.”

Their guest shrugs. “I had other stuff to work on. Besides, this is nothing compared to a friend of mine. Her art is amazing. I wish I had some of it, I’d love to show you.”

“Not Faro?” Timna asks. He moves to lean against the fence next to Ezra. Not too close, though. 

Ezra laughs. “I doubt Faro has drawn anything in her life. She’s not the artistic type, from what I can tell.”

“It might be rude to ask this, but I really want to know: why are you travelling with them?” he asks. He ignores the look he can feel Lilana giving him, it would just read as her basically yelling at him to shut his mouth. “It’s just, the four of you don’t really come across as a proper group.”

“You don’t have to answer,” Lilana adds in. 

“It’s fine,” Ezra responds. He shrugs, opening and closing the sketchbook a few times before continuing. “I didn’t plan on it, not really. Sometimes the galaxy just has its own plan for people. It didn’t really care if I wanted to travel with them or not.”

“What were you doing before?” Lilana asks. Timna throws her a look this time, one that if she chose to read it (which she obviously doesn’t) would read as calling her a hypocrite. 

“I was with the group I chose to be with.”

Timna frowns, looking Ezra over. A wave of sadness came rushing over him, like a gust of wind. Stronger than the actual breeze swirling gently around them right now. Timna hasn’t ever felt anything like this from someone who isn’t Lilana, not this intensely. He doesn’t get the chance to delve into this new discovery; Ezra is jumping down from the fence, smiling at the two of them. 

“I should head back to the others, it’s getting late. I don’t want to hold you both up,” he says. Looking over to just Timna, he shakes the sketchbook a bit. “Thanks for getting me this. I’ll show you whatever else I end up drawing while we’re still here.”

“Sure, thanks,” Timna answers. He keeps his frown as Ezra makes his way to the barn. He knows he should tell Lilana what he felt but he doesn’t know how. How does he tell her that Ezra’s emotions are just as easy to read as hers, isn’t that just something for the two of them? It’s like when they were in the L’uunaal when they both first sensed him. But that was vague, not at all precise like this. He knows he’s good with people. That doesn’t change that everything about Ezra is completely different. 

“Ready to head back to the house?” Lilana asks. 

He nods and lets her lead him to the house. 

He’ll tell her, just not right now. Once he understands it all a bit better, that’s when.

✣✣✣

They walk through the corridors of the _Chimaera_ in silence, Faro on her datapad organizing the days to come while he reads a report from one of the other two Star Destroyers. She has been the one keeping the silence. It is obvious why. She has never had much to say when he returns from a visit with Bridger, so it is clear that her finally partaking in one of those visits has only deepened her anger about this whole situation. So be it, he does not need to hold her hand through this. She can choose to follow him or question him, he knows that ultimately she will see his way or she will be discarded.

“Commodore, tomorrow we will go visit the other Star Destroyers, they are in need of direction,” Thrawn says, turning his datapad off.

“Yessir,” she responds. 

“It is time I start to let them know what is happening on this ship,” he offers. He is curious, despite knowing that she will come around to him, just how far off she is from understanding his plan. 

And, as he assumed, she takes the bait. “And what, if I am permitted to ask, sir,” Faro says, her steps next to him stopping, “is happening on this ship?”

Thrawn stops a few steps ahead of her, turning back to study her. Her arms are crossed now, no longer holding herself at the proper attention of the soldier she is. The insubordination that he generally admires from her radiating in this moment. It is more than just doing acting in the moment without asking for permission, now it is fully her questioning him. He hopes she will be able to get over this minor inconvenience he has given her, for her own sake. “What do you mean?”

“Sir, I understand that this is a difficult time for all of us, no one predicted getting lost in space like this. But, keeping an enemy onboard this long and barely keeping him under guard, when _he_ is the reason we are stranded is irresponsible. I’m sure you have a plan, but I don’t get why Bridger isn’t locked up in the brig where he belongs. He’s a killer, he shouldn’t be treated like some honoured guest,” she says. 

“Are you questioning my decision to keep him alive?” It is an unfair question. Answering this in the Empire honestly would no doubt have ended with Faro being demoted or even tried for treason, questioning a superior officer like this. He just wants to see how loyal to the Empire she still is when she believes she will never return to it. 

She takes a moment before straightening her stance and stating, “Yes, I am.”

Nodding, Thrawn walks back to her, holding his datapad behind his back. “I understand your confusion. I regret not explaining this to you in a way you’d comprehend. The fact that Bridger is a Jedi means he is our only chance at survival. His abilities to use and control the Force brought us here but can also save us. I am fully aware that most of the men and women under my command will not understand or accept this, but I need you to be able to do so. And this means you need to accept that Bridger is here and will be of use to our survival.” 

“He’s our enemy, he is the cause for everything,” she retorts. 

“Maybe so, but we pushed his hand.”

“Fine, but we shouldn’t lower ourselves and ask for his help. He ruined our futures, our lives.”

“Lower ourselves,” he repeats. “No, we are not lowering ourselves by acknowledging that we cannot see this through without his abilities. I am not asking you to befriend the boy, I know that that is an impossible ask from all sides. I am asking you to set your apprehensions aside so that I know that the one person I can trust in this fleet will make it out of this alive. Our futures have not been ruined, merely altered. We must alter ourselves with them. I am asking you to adapt.”

Faro’s mouth tightens, her free hand forming a fist so tight that her knuckles whiten. Good, she understands him. And she understands that this is not a direct order. He needs her to willing stand at his side, not be there because of a sense of duty to a now absent power. He has not convinced her to fully join him, he can see that much, but the seed has been planted. Karyn Faro is a smart woman, she will come around and willingly stand with him. 

“If we can convince him to help us, and I believe we will, it will not just be Bridger who benefits from our protection. Anyone who joins us will prosper. Trust me, Faro. I believe that this is the key to our survival.”

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Thank you for being patient! Hope you enjoyed this chapter, my friends. :) The 2020 goal for this fic is to have a chapter a month. 
> 
> I post updates and snippets for upcoming chapters on [my tumblr](http://herasyndlla.tumblr.com/tagged/natww-tag).


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